Roots of Blood
by The Sorting Hat's Sunglasses
Summary: Slaves. Dryads. Werewolves. Rebellion. War. Passion. Love? They thought they were in control. Seven years is a long time, but it's all only just begun for the new Kings and Queens of Narnia. Will they keep it together even when it all seems to be falling apart? [Peter/OC] [Eventual Edmund/OC and Lucy/OC]
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Narnia belongs to CS Lewis. This is a fanfiction, written by a fan.**  


Prologue

 _It was cloudy; the sky caked in the condensed water. Despite this, by some beautiful chance, the sun had found a small gap in this wall and the golden light of dusk was bathing the forest leaves in a holy glow, turning them from a dull green to a wonderful golden yellow. This enlightened colour was at odds with the grey of the grim sky behind it. It made for an eerie scene; the pious colouring of the land at the mercy of the menace of the darkening sky._

 _There would be a storm._

 _And indeed, barely a moment after the sun had fully disappeared behind the horizon, taking with it the last of the golden light, there was a low rumbling from the sky and the wind rose up a notch or two, and then the first droplets of rain fell, splattering down into the grey forest and onto the dry earth._

 _And amidst the beginning of the impending chaos the sounds of thudding horse hooves could be heard as a young girl riding a silver white mare came cantering out of the forest. The horse was obviously frightened of the sound of the thunder for her nostrils flared and she kept on whinnying nervously._

" _Calm down Silver," the girl said, though she also looked worried by the oncoming storm, "It can't be far now. The deer said that if we went directly through the forest and headed towards the mountains we wouldn't be able to miss it."_

 _What this girl was trying to find was Anvard, the capital of Archenland and the castle where she hoped to find some sort of sanctuary. According to the deer she had spoken with earlier that afternoon, all she had to do was head towards the mountains and she 'wouldn't be able to miss it'. At the moment however, she was having trouble finding even a hint of it._

 _Silver splashed across a bubbling stream and they both came out the other side completely drenched. Over the mountains she could see flashes of lightning and a few seconds later the rumble of thunder could be heard. The storm was moving closer. The girl spurred her steed onwards and up the crest of a gentle hill. At the top she looked down into the valley and there it was, flags flapping in the wind and the last of the evening sunlight dancing on the highest towers. Anvard._

 _Ellen Galion, the slave girl from Tashbaan, let out a sigh and smiled. She had made it._

* * *

King Lune of Archenland, the once merry monarch, wore black robes as a sign of mourning. His son, Prince Cor, the Crown Prince, was gone, kidnapped by Lord Bar. Lune had sailed out after the treacherous Lord as soon as he'd realised what had happened, and had defeated him in a deadly sea battle. But when they had searched the traitor's ship, from top to bottom, there had been no sign of his son. He was gone and beyond doubt dead. Lune stared out of the window, watching the sun disappear beyond the western horizon. Rain was hammering down on the window and occasionally there would be a flash of lightning above Mount Pire, followed by the rumble of thunder.

Lune raised his head and turned from the window at the crying of the baby. His other son, the mischievous Prince Corin was awake and wailing to be fed. The wet nurse awoke from her sleep in the chair by the fire and was startled to find the King in the same room as her.

"Your majesty," she said, standing up to curtsey. She looked at him and then to the prince, "Won't you hold him, your majesty? He needs his father more than ever now that - " She cut off.

 _Now that he is alone,_ Lune finished her sentence in his head, _now that he has lost his twin brother._

"Your majesty," She gave an awkward curtsey and hurriedly left the nursery. Corin's wailing continued.

Lune walked over to his son. His only son. Even in the early months, Corin was more hassle than Cor. He would wake up in the middle of the night whilst Cor was sleeping and scream and scream until they both were awake and wailing, and the whole of the castle was woken by their cries. He looked down at him, the little tyke was crying, his face scrunched up in upset. Did he realise that he had lost a brother? Did he miss the warmth of his twin beside him? Was that why he cried so?

Lune bent down and picked up his child. He rocked him in his arms and made cooing noises to quieten him.

"My dear boy," he said softly, tears now running down his face, "My sweet sweet child." Corin slowly stopped crying and instead stared as if fascinated, up at his father. His podgy arms reached up and tugged at the King's beard. Lune chuckled at this and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"What are we going to do with you, hey?" He smiled, "Now go to sleep." Corin smiled as Lune continued to rock him slowly to sleep.

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door. Corin awoke and started to cry again and Lune turned to the door in surprise. Who could it be? The wet nurse knew not to knock so loudly and who else would come to the Royal Nursery at this hour?

"Your majesty?" It was his servant, Turil the faun, "Your majesty, are you in here?"

"Yes Turil," said Lune, "Come in but do be quiet; I had almost got him to sleep." The door opened and in walked a faun with ginger hair and hooves of the palest white.

"I am sorry, your majesty." Answered Turil, "But we have a..." He paused, searching for the right word, "A guest."

"A guest?" Lune asked, curious.

"Yes," said Turil, "A young Calormen girl by the looks of it – seeking refuge from the storm." Lune's face darkened. It was the Tisroc who had been behind the kidnapping of Cor; the Calormen were no friends of Archenland.

"Send her away."

"But your majesty," Turil said, "The weather; we cannot leave a young lady outside in a storm like that. It would not be right." Lune turned to look out of the window. The rain was much heavier than it had been before and the lightning flashed across the sky so much closer. He looked down at his son who had stopped crying and was instead staring up at him with an expression of wonder.

"She's quite distressed, raving about slavers and kidnapped children." Turil said quietly, watching his King thoughtfully, "She is only a child herself and seems frightened of the storm. Her horse is in need of looking after, a nervous creature, who seems to be mainly skin and bone. I don't know what horrors they have been through but they are in dire need."

"Of course she must stay here, at the castle. I do not know what came over me," Lune said, still looking down at the Prince Corin who was slowly falling back to sleep again, "Sort out a chamber for her and make sure her horse is well tended."

"Yes your majesty," Turil said, and quietly left the nursery.

Lune went over to the cot and placed his remaining son gently down. Prince Corin gave a small little snuffle and turned in his sleep. Lune looked down at him tenderly.

"Well now Corin," he said softly to his son, "It appears we have a guest." He moved a whisp of hair out of his son's face, "Perhaps she may have news of Cor?" He sighed and shook his head at his own foolishness, "Of course she won't. It is curious though," He said quietly, turning back to look out of the window at the lightning and the rain, and to where Mount Pire stood, outlined through the gloom by the flashes of lightning, "It is curious that she should be so very far from home."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello and welcome to this fanfiction. I am TheSortingHatsSunglasses and I shall be your writer for this story. Just some safety briefing: keep your eyes on the page at all times and make sure you enjoy the story. Please feel free to review but readers are reminded that this is not obligatory though always a nice thing to do.**

 **Ok so that was just the prologue part. It's just sort of setting the scene and easing you into the story. Or at least, that's the plan.**

 **Anyway, keep calm and carry on reading.**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**

 **P.S. Reviews are the bomb**


	2. Breakfast in a Castle

Breakfast in a Castle

Ellen woke up. She was lying on a four poster bed in a large room with a huge fireplace. She closed her eyes and allowed the events of yesterday evening to fill her mind.

She had underestimated the distance to Anvard and had arrived late in the night. Silver, her horse, had been galloping out of control from fear of the lightning and she had almost fallen off five times. They had arrived at the gates to the castle and she had banged on the door in earnest, the lightning still flashing around her. A centaur had opened the gates for her and she had trotted over the drawbridge. A young faun with red hair had shown her into a small room with a fire and had left her with some food and drink. She vaguely remembered trying to explain her predicament to him but he had seemed worried by her distress. When he returned he had been smiling and had taken her gently by the arm and shown her to this room. She remembered being helped into a night dress by a willowy young woman and then falling onto this bed in exhaustion.

What a night. Ellen sighed... then sniffed; she could smell something wonderful. Her stomach gurgled and she realised what it was. It was the smell of baking bread. She quickly got out of bed and stretched before looking around the room she was in.

It was large and well furnished with a huge wardrobe of solid oak in the corner and a chest of drawers to match beneath the window. In the corner was a wash basin with a jug of water beside it and next to the fire was a chair and a footstool. Someone had obviously already come in this morning because her curtains were drawn back to reveal windows with little glass panes in them. She walked over to them, entranced by the view, all thoughts of breakfast evaporating from her mind.

The mountains were tall and soaring. Looking at them made her feel dizzy. She tried to look for where the mountain pass was but couldn't work out where it could be through all the forest and greenery. That was where she was heading: up and over the mountains, and then down into the land beyond, into Narnia. She took a deep breath in and drew the curtains closed before turning away from the window, walking over to the chair by the fire where her tunic and trousers had been laid out for her. They were dry now and although they weren't the cleanest, they were all the clothes she had bar the white cotton nightshift she had slept in.

Ellen washed at the basin and then pulled on her grubby garments. Her belt and sword lay on the footstool and she attached them around her waist before sitting down to put her worn boots on. That was when there was a knock on the door and in came the same willowy young woman who had helped her the night before.

"Good morning," Ellen said. The woman laughed and told her that it was gone midday.

"But I have brought some bread for you," she added and went outside before returning with a tray of freshly baked bread and butter.

"Thank you," Ellen said and they sat down by the fireplace, the tray on Ellen's lap.

"So what is your name?" The willowy young woman asked.

"Ellen Galion," she replied, "What's yours?"

"I am Mahlirra, of the Mountain Slopes," she answered, "But what is your story? What has happened to you?"

"Oh," Ellen said and sighed, "It's a long one really. I'm from Calormen. Well, no I'm not actually; I was a slave there. I was a slave there since I was very young. I can hardly remember my home land."

"What is your home land?" Mahlirra asked, curious, "Is it over the sea, to the east? Where they say that the water is sweet?"

"No," Ellen said, laughing, "But who told you that the sea gets sweet? They must have been pulling your leg!"

"Ah but it is true," Mahlirra said, earnestly, "To the east is Aslan's country and when he cries, the tears of a Lion, they sweeten the sea so that the eastern ocean is sweet!"

"Well," Ellen said, "One day I shall have to prove you wrong. I've been to the eastern coast and the water is not sweet. Just salty and disgusting!"

"Ah but that was in the South," said Mahlirra knowledgably, "It is only the sea that sits between Narnia and Aslan's country which is sweetened by his tears, for in Narnia sits the High King Peter and his brother and sisters. It is for them that the water is sweet. For they are the ones who destroyed the White Witch."

"Is she this sorceress that I have heard so much about?" Ellen asked, curious, "She who ruled the north in a storm of never ending winter?"

"Well," said Mahlirra slowly, "It turns out that that 'storm of never ending winter' was less never ending and more... well, more end-able I suppose."

"I am going there."

"To Narnia?"

"Yes," Ellen said, "I must."

"Why?"

"To find my brother." Ellen paused. Was she really going to tell Mahlirra? She hardly knew her yet there was something distinctly trustworthy about her. "He is the only family I am certain I have. And when Aslan came to me - "

"You have seen the Great Lion himself?!" Mahlirra said, in awe.

"Yes," Ellen said, "He came to me the day I decided to run away from my masters. He told me I would find what I was looking for to the north, in Narnia. So I set out and have been through many terrors and hardships to get this far. And now I am so close. Just one mountain range to cross."

"The mountain pass." Mahlirra said, smiling, "The slopes of the mountain are where I come from. My people are the forests there and - "

"Wait," Ellen said, a little confused, "Your people _are_ the forests?"

"Yes," said Mahlirra, "My father is a dryad. He is a man of the Willow and his heart tree is deep in the forest by a pool of water so clear and pure that at first sight it looks like there is another willow tree growing down into the sky. But it is only his reflection."

"Oh my," said Ellen, completely amazed. She had met dwarves, fauns, and even a centaur, but never before had she met a dryad, "So why are you so far from the forest?"

Mahlirra sighed and stood up, going over to the window, "I am not a true dryad. My mother was a human like you, and my home was too still for me, too quiet. My father told me it was the human in me, itching to move and run about, explore the world. So with his blessing I left and came here, to Anvard."

"Do you miss him?" Ellen asked, "Your father?"

"Of course I do," Mahlirra said, "And I have visited him many times, but I want to see more of the world than just Anvard. I want to go north. I want to see Narnia."

"So why don't you?"

"It would be harder to visit my father if I left," Mahlirra said, "And I am comfortable here." She sighed then shook her head, "But why am I yammering on? Turil sent me to check that you were up so that King Lune can meet you. We were to meet with him at one hour after midday in the rose courtyard. And gosh it must be gone one hour past now!"

"What?" said Ellen, "But I can't meet a King like this; in my grubby tunic!"

"That doesn't matter," Mahlirra said, "Come on, we must go!" She took the tray from Ellen's lap and placed it to one side,"the King of Archenland wishes to speak with you!" She took her hand and together they hurried out of the bedroom.

* * *

 **A/N: So here is the next chapter. Keep reading because she sets off for Narnia soon! I'm just revising the next few chapters and I probably will be putting the next one up within the next few days!**

 **There'll be a chapter set in Narnia soon and its... interesting, for want of a better word. I don't want to give too much away.**

 **If you have the time, please do review.**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	3. The Incident at Cauldron Pool

The Incident at Cauldron Pool

Russell the rabbit lived in a quiet neighbourhood which was just what he liked. He had a few friends; Sorrel and Enid were the centaur sisters who visited him every Wednesday with any news, and Marcus the Satyr would come around to the front of his burrow every evening to talk. Marcus was his oldest friend and worried about him. He thought that Russell needed to meet new people but Russell said he was happy living a quiet life. It was one of the few things he was proudest of that his burrow was further west than any other dwelling, bar the cave of Mr Tumnus. But Tumnus was at Cair Paravel more often than not, far on the eastern side of Narnia, so Russell had decided that he didn't count.

No – he lived further west than any other Narnian, and was probably the only creature to venture near the border with the Western Wild. For every Tuesday, early in the morning, Russell would set off from his burrow and head west, to Cauldron Pool. He would arrive in the afternoon and spend the rest of the day bathing in the shallows, watching the water swirl and bubble around the base of the waterfall whilst he practised his breaststroke.

It was the highlight of his week and, as he had told Marcus on countless occasions, one day he intended to travel east, and swim in the sea off the eastern coast, so he needed to practice his swimming. It had been many years though, and he hadn't managed to get round to actually going. He liked his home and he liked the west of Narnia; it was quieter and less populated than the busy eastern side which was nearer to Cair Paravel. Yet he still thought about it, and planned to go at some point.

And so it was on a sunny Tuesday, early in the morning, that Russell could be found making his way to Cauldron Pool. He hopped through the forest undergrowth with a small sack on his back filled with carrots and a cabbage; after swimming he always got very hungry and he was a typical rabbit in his love of raw vegetables, especially his home-grown cabbages.

He was hopping along happily in this manner when he heard a series of cracking twigs to his far left, as if someone was walking parallel to him, fifty metres or so into the forest. He paused and his ear twitched as he stared into the greenery. But he couldn't see anything and the cracking appeared to have stopped. He carried on his journey and was almost at Cauldron Pool when he heard the cracking again. This time it came to his right and when he stopped it carried on, though it seemed to be getting further and further away. Soon he couldn't hear it anymore. His tail twitched and he gnawed on the fabric of the sack for a moment, quite disturbed by the mysterious cracking.

He was, as had been said, probably the only creature in Narnia who came this far west. But, reasoning that another like himself had headed west to find some quiet, he soon got over his qualms.

And anyway, he was almost at Cauldron Pool and had been looking forwards to his weekly swim all week. He had told Marcus only yesterday evening that if he could manage to swim underwater today then on Saturday he might set off for the eastern coast. Marcus, used to Russell's talk of going east, had laughed, telling him that he had said something similar last week and hadn't gone: he was a Westerner at heart. Russell was used to Marcus's teasing and quite intended to prove him wrong but just not yet. Russell scratched his ear and then carried on his way and arrived at Cauldron Pool only slightly later than normal.

Russell had his swim and made sure that he washed behind his ears before getting out and rolling over in the long grass to dry himself off. He had a late lunch and then laid down on the bank for a rest. He must've been tired from staying up late with Marcus the night before for all too soon he fell asleep in the warmth of the sun.

It was very late when he finally woke up again and it was dark. He wasn't too worried by this; he had fallen asleep after his swim before and although he had never slept for this long, it wasn't unusual. Luckily there was a full moon so he would be able to see his way back.

He was setting off into the woods when there came a horrible howling sound from behind him. He started and turned round in terror. He couldn't see anything but the trees which made horrible shadows in the moonlight. He was shaking and then there came a second howling, joining in with the first and he didn't stop to think. Dropping his sack, Russell pelted away, squeaking slightly in terror. He ran in a zigzag fashion in case whatever it was was trying to chase him, and didn't stop until he was safe in his snug little burrow.

There he spent the rest of the night, shaking and unable to get to sleep. It was Sorrell, the centaur, who found him the next morning. She had come up early to tell him about the new ships that were being built at Cair Paravel, and was shocked to see the state he was in.

"Russell," she said, her wise and kindly head appearing at the entrance to his burrow, "Whatever is the matter? Won't you come out?"

It took her some time to coax him out and by that time her sister Enid had arrived. Russell told them what had happened and they were both shocked. Enid galloped off at once to Cair Paravel to inform the High King and his siblings, whilst Sorrell took the shaking rabbit and trotted him over to the Marcus's home which was a snug little cave tucked beneath a rocky outcrop. Once she had explained what had happened to Marcus, and saw that Russell was well looked after, she too cantered off to Cair Paravel.

"But Russell," Marcus said, once she had gone, "What on earth was it?"

"I... I don't know," Russell said, "A wolf perhaps or... or something worse." He shivered, "I just wish I hadn't dropped that sack; it had my finest cabbage in it, which I'd been saving for when I went to the sea." Marcus made no comment about the intended trip to the sea and instead went to his store cupboard and brought out a pair of carrots for Russell to nibble on.

He stayed the rest of the week at Marcus's and on Saturday Sorrell and Enid returned. They told them that High King Peter himself had invited Russell to stay at Cair Paravel whilst the matter was decided on and so, after stopping off at his burrow to get some of his belongings, Sorrell took Russell to Cair Paravel. Enid stayed behind at Marcus's before following after her sister.

"What does it mean?" Marcus asked Enid as she was about to leave, "Surely they were just a pair of wolves who had come too far west?"

"Possibly," Enid said, "But the High King will not take this matter lightly."

"But you know Russell," Marcus continued, "He wouldn't know a wolf from a terrier! And he's so scared of everything."

"Perhaps," Enid said, "But you shouldn't venture too far west Marcus – not until the Kings and Queens have come to a decision on the matter."

"Of course," Marcus said and after saying goodbye, Enid trotted off, heading east for Cair Paravel.

Despite what he had said, Marcus fully intended to head west that very day. He had decided the first night Russell had stayed over his that he would go back to Cauldron Pool and see if he could find any clues as to what it might have been. Marcus strongly suspected that someone had played a trick on poor Russell in order to get his prize cabbage. Foremost on his list of suspects was Belinda the Squirrel but Marcus decided that rather than confront her right out, he would find some sort of evidence first.

And so, on the Saturday that Russell had finally headed east, Marcus the Satyr set off, going further west than he had ever gone before.

* * *

 **A/N: So this was a different point of view. Something's happening in the west of Narnia and that's not the end of it, indeed not! What will Marcus find I wonder? ;)**

 **And how are the Pevensies going to deal with it?**

 **Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about Ellen and her new friend Mahlirra; she'll be meeting King Lune soon enough and then she'll be going on, onto Narnia and the mysteries of the Western March.**

 **But before I update anymore, I'd love some feedback. It's not too difficult leaving a review, and its free! Every time someone leaves a review, an angel gets his wings ;)**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	4. A King Amidst the Roses

A King Amidst the Roses

Mahlirra led Ellen through the castle, down winding staircases and along sweeping corridors, passing castle people as they did. There were servants and nobles, few of them human in their form; there were two satyrs dressed in silk waistcoats, obviously important lords, and a gaggle of giggling Naiads, heading to the castle well.

But finally, Mahlirra pushed open a set of double doors and they were outside in a small courtyard, enclosed on three sides by castle towers, and the fourth by a low wall which looked out to the east as far as the eye could see. In the far distance, Ellen could see the gleam of the eastern ocean but her senses were soon occupied by the presence of on just thing: roses.

The courtyard was filled with rose bushes. There were red ones in the masses but also white ones and pink ones as well as orange, lilac and yellow and colours Ellen couldn't even think of a name for. The smell was sensational. Have you ever smelt a rose and it smell so strong that the pure smell of it makes you smile? Well it was like that, but you didn't even have to be particularly close to one flower to smell it. Ellen was entranced. There was a gentle buzzing coming from a nearby rose bush. The flowers were a beautiful silver colour and when Ellen went to have a closer look, a cuddly looking bumble bee came flying out. She stepped back hurriedly – when she was younger she had been badly stung by a wasp – but the bee didn't seem to have noticed her, and instead flew off to another rose bush.

"Those ones are called Moonlight Bloomers; because of their colour." Ellen jumped a little at the sound of this new voice. She turned around and there stood a plump man with a round face and jolly cheeks. Although he was smiling at her, Ellen could sense a certain sadness about him. Perhaps it was the fact that he was wearing black, the colour of mourning.

"They were my wife's favourite," he continued, "A little bit of the night sky for the daytime she would tell me." He came over to her, "So you are our unexpected guest." At this Ellen suddenly realised who this man was; it was King Lune of Archenland. She quickly gave a hasty curtsey.

"Your majesty," she said, "I must thank you for your hospitality. You see I had nowhere else to go and I was told that the court of King Lune always welcomed guests and - "

"And so we do," King Lune said to her, "You must forgive me for not coming to see you yesterday but I heard you were in a distressed state and I have had enough sadness to last me a while yet."

"I am sorry your majesty," Ellen said, "I did not know. Your wife, she must have been a wonderful Queen." At this King Lune's eyes saddened, and the twinkle that had been in them the moment before was gone.

"Ay," he said, "She was and I take heart from the fact that at least she did not live to see her son taken from her in such a terrible way."

"Oh my," Ellen said, "I am sorry –I really did not realise, I - "

"Oh don't worry yourself my dear," the King said, "It is in the past and at least I still have my Prince Corin," King Lune looked at her confused face, "His twin brother," he added, to clarify for her.

"Oh," Ellen said, "Oh yes, of course."

"Your majesty," came a voice from behind a rose bush. A second later and a faun, a man, a fox and two ladies appeared from around the bush.

"Your majesty," the faun said. Ellen recognised him as the faun who had greeted her the night before, "Your majesty, Lady Helaina was wondering which of the roses she might cut to take for her ill mother."

"Thank you Turil," the King said to the faun , "Lady Helaina," he said, turning to greet the young woman in a flowing yellow dress, "You may cut any of the roses you wish and take as many as you like. Help yourself my dear."

"Thank you, your majesty," Lady Helaina said, "Lord Drucan," she turned to the young man beside her, "Would you be so kind as to help me pick some out."

"Why of course," the man said, "Though I doubt any would be as fair as you my Lady." Lady Helaina gave a laugh and allowed the Lord Drucan to lead her away through the rose bushes. King Lune waited for them to disappear from view before he let out a chortle.

"Poor Lord Drucan," he said, before turning to the remaining lady, a young woman wearing riding gear and a scowl, "Your cousin is quite the charmer wouldn't you agree Lady Pamela?"

"I'm glad someone is amused," Lady Pamela said, "I just wish she would grow up and focus on something else, like riding. I only came along to choose some flowers for my Aunt but she turns it into such a drag. But if your majesty will excuse me, I have places to be." She gave Ellen a curious look before bowing and leaving the courtyard.

"You humans are odd," the fox remarked, "Always moving about, places to go and what silly things you worry about."

"I couldn't agree more," Turil the faun said, "Why can't you just learn to enjoy life?"

"Well," Ellen said, "Perhaps that's how we enjoy life, by moving about and worrying about silly things?" The faun and the fox turned to look at her.

"Ah but where are my manners," King Lune said, "Dawson, Turil, this is Lady Ellen; the guest who arrived last night in the storm."

"Well," Ellen said, "I'm not sure about the Lady part but yes – that's me."

"Welcome to Anvard," the fox said, "But you must tell us of where you have come from. Turil told me that you were raving about slaves last night when you arrived."

"Well," Ellen said and saw that the three of them were all watching her intently, "Well I was a slave. In Tashbaan. But I escaped and came north. I'm heading for Narnia; apparently I might find my twin brother there."

"Well," said King Lune, "That could be quite a tale if you had told it all though I suppose you have your reasons for discretion. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish and - "

"Well actually I was hoping to set off for the Mountain Pass today."

"So soon?"

"Yes," Ellen said, "I am sorry but I feel I cannot put it off. It was Aslan who told me to head to Narnia and well, I really want to find my brother."

"You saw Aslan?"

"The Great Lion himself?"

"Yes."

"Where was this?"

"In Tashbaan actually, just before I escaped."

"So he told you that you would find your brother in Narnia?" King Lune asked, "Why would he be there?"

"I don't know," Ellen said, "And he didn't say explicitly that my brother was in Narnia, just that I would find what I was looking for in Narnia – and I've been looking for my brother ever since he ran away so I guess he made it to Narnia and I'll find him there."

"Did he run away from the slavers?" Asked the fox.

"Yes," Ellen said, "He managed to escape."

"Yet he didn't think to take you with him?" Turil asked, "He doesn't seem the best of brothers."

"Well he couldn't," Ellen said, her face going red, "It was more complicated than that."

"Of course it was," the King said, trying to diffuse the situation, "I am sure you will find what you are looking for in Narnia, Lady Ellen, but know that you are always welcome here. My court is a welcoming one and soon perhaps it shall find some of the joy that it used to know."

"Thank you, your majesty," Ellen said, "Could someone show me the way to the stables? I'll need my horse, Silver, for the journey."

"Of course," King Lune said, "Mahlirra," he called, and the dryad appeared from behind a rose bush, "Mahlirra my dear," he said to her, "Ensure that the Lady Ellen has everything she needs for her journey over the Mountain Pass. In fact, why don't you show her the way to the start of it?"

"Of course, your majesty," Mahlirra said and then hesitated, "I wonder your majesty, if you would allow me to go with her? All the way to Narnia? I can look after her and help her."

"Mahlirra," King Lune said gently, "You are free to do as you please. Surely you know that? If you are ready to leave us then go; go with Lady Ellen – go and explore Narnia, in all its splendour."

"Thank you, your majesty," Mahlirra said, "I'll never forget the kindness you have shown me."

"And I'll never forget the dryad who wanted to explore, to leave the forests behind," said Turil. The fox chuckled at this but quickly stifled this at the look King Lune gave him.

"Are you sure?" Ellen asked Mahlirra. The dryad nodded.

"I've never been more certain, Ellen," she said, "When you arrived in the storm last night, it was the most exciting thing that has happened to me since I came here - no offence your majesty."

"None taken," King Lune said jovially.

"And I realised," she continued, "That I wanted excitement - I wanted to explore. So is that alright? Can I come with you?" Ellen smiled.

"Of course," she said, "I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get and you've been so kind to me so far!"

"Well," King Lune said smiling, "I guess that means that's settled then? Mahlirra will travel with Lady Ellen. Are you sure you want to leave today?"

"Yes your majesty," Ellen said, "And thank you again, for taking me in during that storm." She turned to Mahlirra, "Shall we?"

"Yes."

So they curtseyed to the King and said their farewells to Turil and the fox, but just before she left the Rose Courtyard, Ellen turned back for one last look. The King was standing with Turil on one side and the fox on the other. He was bent over sniffing the Moonlight Bloomer. On the other side of the courtyard the voices of Lady Helaina and Lord Drucan could be heard, chattering pleasantly. King Lune looked up to see Ellen looking. He smiled and gave her a nod. Though she was at a distance, it seemed that the twinkle in his eye was back, but Mahlirra called to her from the door and so she left the courtyard of Roses.

An hour or so later, they were cantering out of the gates of Anvard. They headed north with the wind rushing in their faces and a sense of adventure thriving in their hearts. Mount Pire was ahead of them and beyond that lay the land of Narnia.

* * *

 **A/N: And... So what do you think? I'm not sure if I've been trying to weave too much detail in but this isn't going to be a short story! However, in a few more chapters, they'll be meeting the Pevensies but we'll first need to go back to Marcus and his venture to Cauldron Pool. The next chapter however will be with the Pevensies!**

 **I just need to review the next chapters and make sure they make sense etc before they go up. In the meantime, it would be great to get some opinions on the first few chapters.**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	5. From Slavery

From Slavery

 _The wagon trundled along the cobbled road. The slaves inside wore cold metal chains and tunics that stank of sweat and dirt. As they neared the market square the sounds of freedmen and women could be heard, bustling about their afternoon routine. The cries of the market sellers got louder as the slave wagon finally rumbled to a halt._

 _Ellen took the hand of her friend Heria who was shaking as the slavers unbolted the back of the wagon. The light was blinding; it had been pitch black in the windowless wagon and they hadn't been let out for a day and a half. Ellen blinked in an effort to adjust her eyes to the sun._

" _Get out!" The fat slaver shouted and he pulled on the chains. One by one the slaves stumbled out of the wagon, clumsy because they did not have full control of their arms and legs, bound as they were with heavy chains: chains linking wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and right wrist to the left ankle of the person in front of them._

 _In this way they shuffled, half blinded by the glaring sun, through the throng of people surrounding the market platform, the wooden stage set up in the centre of the market square. Ellen stumbled up the steps after Heria and they were lined up by the slavers. The bald slave merchant made his way up the steps after them and then turned, his back to his goods, to address the crowd._

" _Ladies and gentlemen," he cried, "We have a wonderful selection of human workers for you today. They've come all the way from the Southern Wastelands, hence why their skin is so dark. We have men, women, young and healthy; a real selection. Now, who wants to buy?"_

 _And with that, the bidding began._

 _Ellen and Heria were standing side by side, Heria gripping Ellen's hands, having watched five of the other slaves get sold off, when it happened. An oily looking man in the crowd with an ugly face called to the slaver:_

" _How much for the ugly one? Surely you should be trying to give her away for free!" There was a chorus of crude laughing behind him._

" _For free?" The merchant cried out in outrage, "Do you know how much they are worth! All the way from the south they have travelled and they're still here." He paused, " But which one are you talking about?"_

" _Her." The oily man shouted, pointing directly at Ellen. Ellen felt her face go red, how dare he! She felt so embarrassed. The merchant turned to look at her, up and down. Then he shrugged._

" _I'll grant you that – she is ugly, but I'm not selling for looks. They're hard workers, the lot of them. You'd be a fool to buy for looks. The prettier the slave, the worse they work: too full of pride and self importance." He looked around the crowd, "Any takers?" Ellen felt her heart pounding in her mouth. The oily man cocked his head to one side then sniffed._

" _Nah," he said, "Too ugly to sell. You'll have to give her away in the end and you know it."_

" _If you're not buying then get out." The merchant shouted, "Go on." Some of the slavers started making their way towards the oily man, hands on their swords. He raised his hands in the air._

" _I'm going ok – no need to get all aggressive about it." With that he left, a few others following in his wake._

" _Right," the merchant turned back to the crowd, "Who else wants to buy?"_

 _It was nearly dark when the bald slaver decided enough was enough. The crowd had been thinning ever since the oily man had left, and now there were only a few stragglers left. Ellen and Heria were, like most of the slaves, almost asleep on their feet. They had been standing in the heat and sun with no food or water for almost five hours. They were being led down the steps to the wagon when a richly dressed rider rode into the square._

" _Wait," he called to the merchant, "I wish to buy a slave."_

" _Well too late," the merchant replied, "We're done here."_

" _I have gold," the man said, and produced a plump leather pouch that jangled, "And lots of it."_

 _The slavers eyes lit up at this, "How many do you want?"_

" _Just one," the rich man replied, "I knew her father. Her name is Heria. Heria Heraldi._

" _That's me," Heria called in excitement, "You knew my father, Horro Heraldi?"_

" _Yes," the man replied, "He saved my life."_

" _All right, all right," the merchant said, "Well this one actually happens to be worth quite a lot."_

" _Oh really," the man said, "How surprising."_

 _And so they bargained, for what felt like ages, finally arriving at a price neither particularly liked. The man handed over the gold and Heria was released from her chains._

" _Heria?" Ellen said as her friend was led over to the rich man. Heria turned and looked at Ellen before turning to the man who had bought her._

" _Kind sir," she said, "My friend - "_

" _I'm sorry Heria," the man said, "I came here only to buy you. You must come with me now, to safety." Ellen watched as Heria hesitated and turned to look back at her._

" _I'm sorry Ellen," she said. A tear ran down Ellen's face but she brushed it away, her chains clanking as she did._

" _Heria go," she said, "Go and be free."_

" _Thank you." And without a moment more of hesitation Heria got onto the horse, behind the man, and he turned the horse, riding back the way he had come. Ellen watched as they rode away but Heria didn't turn to look back. She watched as they disappeared behind a bend in the road and were gone from sight, but a slaver yanked at her chains forcing her to turn and follow the other slaves down the steps and into the dark stink of the wagon..._

Ellen woke up. She was lying on something soft. She opened her eyes and could see dappled green. Something tickled her face and thinking of spiders crawling into her mouth, she sat up quickly. She was lying on soft ferns in the middle of a wood. Sunlight was slipping through the leafy canopy and it appeared to be morning. Mahlirra was nowhere to be seen. She stood up slowly and looked about. Their horses stood nearby; Silver was drinking from the stream they had caught fish in yesterday. Ellen went over to it and splashed water on her face. It was icy and quickly woke her up, clearing her head.

They were in Narnia, not Calormen, having crossed the Mountain Pass from Archenland the day before yesterday. She was free and off to find her brother. Yes, Heria was gone, had left her, but she had made a new friend - the half-dryad Mahlirra. Thinking of Mahlirra, Ellen wondered where she had got to; they were intending to reach Cair Paravel by that afternoon. It had been a friendly young badger who had suggested it to them when they had first crossed over from Archenland. The badger had been the first creature they had met, and once Mahlirra had explained what they were doing, the badger had suggested Cair Paravel as the first place to look. Anyone and everyone who came to Narnia always ended up there. The Kings and Queens loved to meet new people and welcomed newcomers as much, if not more so, than the court of King Lune. Ellen had figured that if her brother had come to Narnia, as Aslan had hinted, then it seemed she would find news of him, if not him himself, at Cair Paravel. And so, she and Mahlirra were heading to Cair Paravel.

"So you're finally up then?" Ellen turned at this to see Mahlirra appear from behind a tree.

"Where've you been?" Ellen asked.

"I was talking with the trees," she answered, "It seems that they have heard of my father – he seems to be quite a name round here, though they wouldn't tell me why."

Ellen shrugged, "Do many dryads have children with humans?"

"I suppose not..." Mahlirra said thoughtfully.

"Perhaps that's why?"

"Yes," Mahlirra said and hesitated, "Ellen," She paused, "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"It's something I've never told anyone – not even King Lune or Turil."

Ellen was intrigued, "Whatever is it? Don't tell me you have a deep dark secret!" She laughed, "If you're secretly that White Witch person and have been keeping it from me then I will not be impressed!"

Mahlirra gave her a reproachful look, "You shouldn't joke about such things; and it's nothing about me. Well – I suppose it is actually."

"Come on," Ellen said, "You can trust me. Just a bad sense of humour – that's all that's wrong with me!" Mahlirra gave a reluctant smile.

"Ok," she said, then took a deep breath, "Well I've always wanted to find out who my mother is." She bit her lip and looked at Ellen. Ellen stared at her.

"You don't know who your mother is?!"

"Well do you?" Mahlirra retorted defensively.

"No," Ellen said, "But that's only because I never knew my father so I couldn't just ask him like you could. Why haven't you just asked him?"

"I did," Mahlirra said, "Once. But he got all quiet and retreated back to his willow. He didn't return to human form for a week! Of course I've never asked him again; it's obviously something that he wouldn't want to talk about."

"Fair enough," Ellen said as she stood up, "Well how else do you intend to find out who she is?"

"I..." Mahlirra sighed, "I don't know." Ellen placed her hand on Mahlirra's shoulder.

"We will find her," she told her, "I promise."

Mahlirra smiled, "Thank you." She went over to her horse and tightened the girth. Ellen picked up her sword and slid it back into her belt before going over to Silver.

"We should reach Cair Paravel today," she said to Mahlirra, "Goodness – I've just realised – we'll be meeting the Kings and Queens of Narnia in our riding gear!"

Mahlirra laughed, "Ellen you shouldn't worry about that; you've already met one monarch in that tunic; four more won't make a difference!"

Ellen stuck out her tongue. "Oh that's mature," Mahlirra said, "But you shouldn't worry about that. It's not like Calormen – we don't care about the way you dress or how you look; all that matters is who you are and what choices you make."

"Sounds like my sort of country," Ellen said as she scrambled onto Silver's back, "I hope they don't judge me on my riding skills either. Or my horse for that matter!" Silver snorted.

Mahlirra laughed and gracefully leapt up onto her horse. She was an elegant rider – actually she was just very elegant in general. Something Ellen lacked, to say the least.

They trotted away from the river, and within a few minutes they were out of the trees. Before them was an empty plain with a river running east to the ocean. In the distance Ellen could see the sea and as she followed the coastline north, far in the distance she could see Cair Paravel, glistening on the eastern ocean like the badger told them it would. She smiled and turned to Mahlirra.

"The badger said we could reach it within the day," Ellen said, "What do you think?"

"I could," Mahlirra said, "But with you slowing me down... well..."

"Ok," Ellen said, "How about first to that river?"

"You're on."

And with that they kicked their horses into a trot, then a canter, and were soon galloping flat out away from the forest and the mountains in the south, and towards the glistening castle, the capital of Narnia. Cair Paravel.

* * *

 **A/N: First of all, thank you Sage Telgar and the anonymous guest for your reviews. They made my day. Perhaps I'm jumping around a bit too much - that might be why your confused? The whole Russell the rabbit stuff may have been a bit out of the blue! But it is necessary as part of the story. Maybe I should've reordered the chapters?**

 **However, this chapter is following Ellen and Mahlirra's story, and doesn't have the Pevensies. Sorry - I know I said that the next chapter would be with the Pevensies but I didn't think it would make sense so... Sorry! I just thought that it would make more sense with this chapter first and then leading onto the Pevensie's one.**

 **Also I wanted to develop Ellen as a character, showing some of her past experience, and her relationship with Mahlirra needed to progress. I wanted to put all that in before the Pevensies come onto the scene... which will definitely be the next chapter!**

 **And don't worry, all of this stuff will link up, just give it a few more chapters!**

 **If there are any mistakes or stuff that doesn't make sense, please point it out. I have checked through but I'm really good at missing my own mistakes - just because I know what I'm trying to say so I expect everyone else to as well!**

 **Thank you for reading and do review if you have the time. :D**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D :D**


	6. On the Eastern Ocean

On the Eastern Ocean

It had been seven years since the Battle of Beruna; since the White Witch had been defeated and Narnia had been freed from the never ending winter. The Pevensie siblings ruled from Cair Paravel and were surrounded by their friends; Mr and Mrs Beaver, Mr Tumnus and many more.

The sun was beginning to get low in the sky and Edmund Pevensie was standing on the beach, looking out over the eastern ocean. The new ships that were being built would soon be ready and then he and Lucy would take a small fleet out to Galma and Terebinthia, and then on to the Lone Islands to the south. He remembered their first sea voyage to the islands five years ago. The Narnians there had realised that the White Witch's power had ended because of the ending of winter, and then when the four of them had arrived, fulfilling the prophesy, there had been much celebrating. Edmund was almost excited as Lucy was about the voyage planned for next spring. It was going to be their first journey without Peter and Susan as the High King had finally deemed Edmund old enough not to mess it up - he was turning eighteen that summer.

Edmund closed his eyes as he felt the warmth of the sun on his face and smiled at the feeling of the sea breeze. He turned at the sound of thudding hooves coming towards him from the castle. It was a young female centaur, her dark brown hair streaming out behind her in the wind, and her bow held by her side as she galloped towards him, the brown of her horse sides shining in the sun. She came up to him and then bowed her head respectfully.

"Your majesty," She said, "I am Sorrell from the west of Narnia. My sister and I fought alongside you in the Battle of Beruna."

"I remember," said Edmund, smiling, "What brings you to Cair Paravel?"

"My sister and I bring grave news. The High King and your sisters have gathered in the Throne room with my sister Enid. They are awaiting you."

"Why?" Edmund asked worried, "What's happened?"

"It is a friend of ours," Sorrell said as they turned to walk back up to the castle, "Russell the rabbit. He has a very terrifying story to tell your majesty."

"And is it a story that is best heard directly from him?"

"Yes you majesty."

"Well," he said, "I'd better get a move on; they'll be waiting." So he picked up his pace and with Sorrell trotting beside him, they made their way up to the main courtyard of Cair Paravel. Edmund crossed the courtyard and entered the castle, making his way to the Throne room. Sorrell followed him. He pushed open the set of oak double doors and entered the hall.

It was packed full of courtiers and advisors of all species who all respectfully made way when he came in. At one end were the four ornate thrones that they had been crowned upon, but only one was occupied: Queen Susan sat in hers talking quietly and urgently to Mr and Mrs Beaver. In the centre of the room stood the High King in conversation with a centaur who, with her long brown hair and dark green eyes, could only be Sorrell's sister Enid. Edmund looked around a moment for Lucy, before spying her sitting on the bottom step leading up to the thrones, talking gently to a large brown rabbit.

"Edmund," Susan said as soon as she saw he had come in, "Come, brother, let us begin."

"What has happened?"

"I have asked Russell the rabbit to tell us the tale about something that happened to him on the border with the Western Wild." Peter said, breaking off his conversation with Enid, "Let us be seated brother; you must hear this."

They all did as he said, Lucy planting a soft kiss on the top of the rabbit's head before hurrying up to sit on her throne. Edmund was pretty certain that Russell had already told her what had happened – Lucy was kind and even the quietest of people found her easy to talk to because she was so good at listening. The reason why she was such a great listener was simple: she cared.

The other courtiers in the room took their seats on benches that lined the sides of the hall and the centaurs and other four footed creatures stood to the side, leaving the brown rabbit standing on his own in the centre of the hall. He was standing on his hind legs like any intelligent mammal does when in a situation as he was in. Russell cleared his throat and wrung his paws a little before glancing to Queen Lucy. She gave him a smile and nodded her head and he took heart from this and began.

"You majesties," Russell said, and he told of the incident at Cauldron pool. When he had finished an uneasy silence filled the hall before he spoke up again: "But also... I must ask you," He hesitated a moment and swallowed, "What is to be done about it?"

"That is what we are here to decide," King Peter said, "Did you, at any point, see what these creatures looked like?"

"N-no," Russell said stuttering a little, "I only heard them."

"How many were there?" Edmund asked, kindly, "Were there more than one?"

"Yes," Russell said decidedly, "I heard two – one on one side and one on the other. There were two of them, at least."

"How dreadful," Susan exclaimed, "You poor creature."

"Do you think they were wolves?" Lucy asked, pointedly.

"Yes," Russell said, "And no – you see they sounded like wolves but there was something else about their howling... I can't quite put my paw on it..."

"Werewolves?"

The word was out before Edmund could stop himself from saying it. Everyone in the room turned to each other and a low nervous murmuring could be heard.

"In Narnia? Now?" Susan turned to look at him, "Edmund what a thing to suggest; how terrible."

"Indeed," Peter said and then stood up, to address the crowd of worried Narnians, "What is important is that we do not panic. This possibility will be dealt with, yet we still cannot be certain of what it is." He turned to look at his siblings, "My brother and sisters and I will need to talk this through. We will return tomorrow at midday to tell you all what is to be done."

The four of them stood up from their thrones and left the Throne room. A small huddle of their closest advisors followed them, along with Russell the rabbit and the centaur sisters.

"Well," said Edmund, as they entered the antechamber, "Is it possible that they were werewolves because if that is the case then - "

"Edmund," Susan interjected, "They can't be werewolves – they just can't. We've ruled here for so long; how could we miss something like this?"

"Your majesties," said Mr Tumnus, "What might have happened is they came across the border from the Western Wild."

"But there aren't any werewolves in the Western Wild," said Lucy, "At least not this close to our border."

"Russell," Susan said, turning to the rabbit, "What do you think they were? Could they have just been ordinary wolves?"

"I suppose so, your majesty," Russell said uncertainly.

"Susan," Edmund said, "Either way, we cannot let this lie. A wolf may not be as terrible as a werewolf but it still needs to be dealt with. I've said it before and I'll say it again; the Western March is just as much a part of Narnia as Cair Paravel is. The reason why such a thing could happen is because we as rulers always forget about it. It is always neglected by us."

"It's all very well to say that now," Peter said, a little annoyed because he knew Edmund to be right, "But we need to decide what to do."

"There is nothing _to_ do," Susan exclaimed, "At least not now; these wolves will have slunk back over to the Western Wild by now and there is nothing that can be done about it. With any luck they won't return."

"And what if they do?" Edmund asked, coldly, "Or what if they are werewolves and we just leave them to terrorise the west of Narnia? How then are we any better than the White Witch?"

"Edmund," Lucy said quietly, "What else do we do?"

"We could send a small force to hunt these creatures out - and kill them."

"No." Peter said decidedly, "We will not risk it. We can't. Not at the moment; not with the giants causing trouble to the north, we can't spare our fighters. If the giants move south or the Calormen move north, we need fighters to defend Narnia. We can't risk it just for the possibility of a couple of wolves right on the edge of Narnia."

"Your majesties," came a small voice from waist height. It was Russell. "Your majesties, am I to understand that nothing is to be done?"

"You can stay here at Cair Paravel for as long as you want," said Lucy, "It can be your home as much as ours."

"This is ridiculous Peter," Edmund said, "And you know it." He looked around at the others in the room. No one said anything. Lucy averted her gaze. Edmund shook his head and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

It was Russell who ended the awkward silence that followed: "Can my friend Marcus come and stay here to?" he asked, "It's just that I do worry, not saying that there are any werewolves of course, but... but just in case."

"Of course," Lucy said gently, "We can send for him at once if you want?"

"Thank you very much your majesty," Russell said, "That would put my mind to rest – I just worry about him; he is my dearest friend."

Slowly everyone dispersed, leaving the ante-chamber, Russell hopping along beside Lucy. But Queen Susan stayed behind, staring out of the window frowning.

"Susan," Peter said, coming over to her, "Are you alright?"

"There can't be werewolves," She said, defiantly, "I won't believe it. Ed's wrong. There can't be werewolves in Narnia: not now, not after everything." She turned to look up at her brother, her eyes wide and desperate. Peter took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Of course there aren't."

Far, far to the west of Cair Paravel, in a deep dark dell beyond Cauldron Pool, a dark shape rose from its slumber. It came out of its cave and stood up tall before howling, a dark terrible sound. A few seconds passed whilst it appeared to be listening. Another moment and then came the answering howl.

This was followed by another and another and another till the whole forest seemed to be filled with the sound: like echoes from a deep well, only coming from all directions, breaking the stillness of the trees, turning the quiet into a chaos of hair-raising howls...

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! So that was the first chapter with the Pevensies... what do you think? Russell the rabbit is at Cair Paravel and Ellen is on her way there with Mahlirra so soon all the story lines will meet up and perhaps be more coherent! We just need to go back to the west of Narnia and see what Marcus is up to - wandering off on his own with evil things lurking about! - and then Ellen and Mahlirra will be arriving at Cair Paravel! Yay!**

 **I am really enjoying writing this - I loved the Narnia books when I was younger and writing a fanfiction about the Golden Age is just the best! I have so many ideas about where this is going to go but I need to reign in my imagination in order to get the stuff written down!**

 **I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it.**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	7. The Satyr's Mistake

The Satyr's Mistake

Marcus trotted through the forest, using his strong goat legs to leap over a tree that had fallen across the path. The path to Cauldron Pool was hardly worthy of the name; the only person who ever used it on a regular basis was Russell, and so it was overgrown and in parts seemed to disappear. Marcus had only used it once before, when Russell insisted he come with him to go swimming. The problem was it was on this day that Marcus discovered that Satyrs couldn't swim. He chuckled at the memory of this; after his terrible attempt at treading water, he had quickly got out of the pool and he and Russell had lain on the bank, both soaking wet and in fits of laughter.

He was abruptly snapped out of his musings by the sound of cracking twigs coming from his right. He froze. Up until that point he hadn't even considered the possibility that Russell hadn't overreacted, that there actually was something out here. He was about three quarters of the way to Cauldron Pool and the sun was getting very low in the sky. Marcus stared out into the forest. He couldn't see anything and now the cracking sound had stopped. He hesitated, unsure what to do. What if there was something out there? Surely it would be better to go back?

He shook his head; he was imagining things – that was all. It could be unnerving being on your own in such a quiet part of Narnia, and so near to the border with the Western Wild. It was getting late though and it was easy to get lost in the dark, especially in an area you didn't know too well. Marcus had almost decided to head back when he heard a howling sound coming from back the way he had come. He turned around and looked back down the path. The world was slowly turning grey as the sun sank down behind the western horizon and it was hard to see.

Marcus thought he saw something dark move from one side of the path to the other but he couldn't be certain. He realised that he was shaking and breathing heavily from fear. How could he be so stupid to come out here so late in the day, and on his own, especially after what Russell had told him.

Then came a second howling sound, this time from up the path ahead of him. He spun round and this time there was no uncertainty in his mind. A dark creature the size of a large man was prowling down the path towards him. It paused and raised its head. Out from its mouth came the terrible howling sound yet Marcus still could not work out what it looked like in the dusk. Then it started running, almost on all fours, straight towards him.

Without thinking, Marcus let out a strangled cry and turned and fled, running off the path and deeper into the forest, away from the two creatures that were now, without doubt, hunting him.

He leapt over a small brook and kept running. He could hear the panting of the creatures behind him and occasionally one of them would let out another terrible howl as they chased him, their feet pounding on the ground. Marcus was galumphing through the forest, racing past trees and bushes, out of his mind with fear, when suddenly the ground disappeared beneath him.

With a yell, he fell over the edge of the small cliff and into the dell at the bottom. He heard a cracking noise as he fell and cried out in agony as he realised that one of his legs was broken. He struggled to his feet but then fell over in pain. He couldn't walk, let alone run, and realised with a sense of calm horror that the creatures chasing him were going to catch him, and that there was nothing he could do to stop them.

Even as this cold realisation dawned on him, one of the creatures appeared at the top of the cliff, outlined against the moon that had appeared in the darkening sky. It let out a terrible howl and then started leaping down into the dell. Marcus tried to scramble away from it but turned at the sound of a snarl coming from behind him, further in the dell. It was the other creature; it had come around the other way to cut him off from the opposite side of the dell.

"Aslan protect me," he murmured as a silent prayer as the two creatures both got nearer and nearer.

"That cat can't save you now goat." Marcus looked up; the voice was inhuman, soft and menacing. It had come from the creature nearest to him.

"What are you?" He asked, dreading the reply. The creature stepped out of the shadows and Marcus could see the full horror of it.

His scream of pure terror lasted less than a second.

* * *

 **A/N: I haven't updated for a while! I am sorry about that but you know what its like - when you have times when lots is going on... Sorry.**

 **Anyway - so that chapter was a little shorter than all the other ones but its more intense I guess. It's scarier and less happy-go-lucky; more scary-go-nervey. Nervey's a word right? As in nerve-racking ect...? Meh - oh well.**

 **If you have the time, do tell me what you think of this one. I've had it written for awhile and now its finally up! Yay! Reviews are always appreciated. :D**

 **SHS**

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	8. Upon the Four Thrones

Upon the Four Thrones

It was late afternoon when Ellen and Mahlirra finally trotted across the golden brick bridge to enter the palace of Cair Paravel. Their journey from the south of Narnia had been short and uneventful bar one moment when Silver almost spooked at the sound of the sea crashing against the cliffs. Ellen had almost fallen off much to Mahlirra's amusement.

"Good afternoon," came a voice from the gatehouse. The gates were open but there was always someone in the gatehouse. Today it was Sir Beverell, a veteran from the White Witch's castle. She had turned him to stone early on in her reign and when Aslan had breathed him back to life, he had happily joined the Pevensies in their fight against her.

"Good afternoon," Ellen called back, shielding her eyes against the sun so that she could see who it was. Sir Beverell appeared in the opening, leaning on his sword. He had blonde curly hair that was slightly greying with age. There were plenty of wrinkles around his eyes from where he smiled so much - something he was doing right at that moment.

"Welcome to Cair Paravel," he called down, "Where have two young ladies such as yourselves travelled from? Archenland?"

"Yes," Mahlirra answered, "From the court of King Lune. Although my friend comes all the way from Calormen; she was a slave there, and has reason to believe that her lost brother might be here, in Narnia."

"Well I say," Sir Beverell said, "What a tale that'll be. The names Beverell, a knight if you would believe it – at my age! But you must come in. I'll come down - hang on," He turned and called to a young woman to relieve him. Mahlirra and Ellen made their way through the gate and inside Cair Paravel.

Through the gateway lay a large and ornate courtyard. Leading off it were many doors and arches but on the side directly opposite them were a set of huge oaken doors which were open, leading into the palace. On the side to their left were stables whilst on the opposite side were arches which appeared to lead through into gardens or up winding stone steps to other parts of the palace. There were lots of people milling about and stable hands leading horses to and from the stables. Right in the centre was a huge stone fountain with Naiads sitting chatting on the side. A statue of a huge stone lion sat right in the centre, facing the gate. There was little doubt in Ellen's mind who the lion represented.

"Hello," said Sir Beverell as he came round the corner from the gatehouse, "Do your horses need tending to?" He didn't wait for their answer, instead calling over a young lad with ginger hair, "Tom – take these ladies horses and stable them would you."

"Yes sir," the boy said and waited whilst Mahlirra and Ellen dismounted. He then led Silver and Mahlirra's horse away, towards the stables.

"Thank you," Mahlirra said.

"Will we be able to see the Kings and Queens today?"Ellen asked.

"Well," Sir Beverell said, "There having some sort of meeting about something that went on in the Western Marches. Some rabbit told a tall story yesterday about wolves but you know what rabbits can be like – scared of anything but carrots! Anyway, I think the High King is just telling the court what is to be done but I think they'll be finishing soon. You can wait out here or go and change although - " He broke off as a large number of people came strolling out of the main doors.

"We'd be happy to wait out here," Ellen prompted. Sir Beverell turned back to them, smiling.

"I think that their meeting is over," he said, gesturing to the people leaving the palace, "Or so it would seem - I'll see if I can introduce you."

"Thank you," Ellen said, "That'll be great won't it Mahlirra?" She turned to the dryad, only to see that she had completely disappeared. "Mahlirra?" She turned back to Sir Beverell, "Did you see where she went?"

"Went off that way I think," He said, pointing towards the palace gardens, "Wait here a moment whilst I go and speak to the High King." Without giving her the opportunity to reply he bounded off, heading into the castle, leaving Ellen alone in the courtyard. She stood there awkwardly for five or so minutes, scanning the courtyard for Mahlirra without success; it would be hard to meet the Kings and Queens without Mahlirra by her side, but she was certain that she was alright. Mahlirra was old enough to look after herself and Cair Paravel was a welcoming place. Ellen looked up to see Sir Beverell come bounding back.

"Well?"

"They are very intrigued," Sir Beverell answered, "Come on then – Queen Lucy in particular is very excited to meet you."

Ellen gave one last look around the courtyard, hoping to see Mahlirra appear but she couldn't see the dryad girl, so instead Ellen followed after Sir Beverell by herself. They walked along a long wide corridor with floor length windows on one side, looking out to the ocean, before halting by a set of large double doors.

"They're waiting for you in there," Sir Beverell said, "I must be getting back to the gate – Betty never has the patience with being on watch."

"Thank you," Ellen said, "You've been very kind."

"It's nothing," Sir Beverell said, "I'm sure I'll see you again." He doffed his hat and strode off, back along the corridor, the curls of his blond hair bouncing about. Ellen hesitated a moment by the doors before pulling herself together and pushing them open.

She gasped a little: the room the Kings and Queens were seated in was their Throne room. It was beautiful and so very large. There were pillars, at the top giving way to ornate arches, either side of the door, leading all the way down to the opposite end where the four thrones stood. The stonework was cream and light and splendid. As Ellen started to walk down towards the thrones her footsteps echoed on the marble floor. As she got nearer she could see that behind the thrones was an ornate stained glass window which allowed a glorious golden coloured light to filter into the hall. It was enchanting.

She stopped just before the steps leading up to the thrones. She attempted a curtsey before the Kings and Queens of Narnia, and stumbled a little. Straightening herself back up, she saw that they were not as old as she had thought. Why, the younger two were her age! The blonde haired, older boy (for he could not be older than twenty-one) began to speak.

"Welcome to Narnia," he said, "We have been told that you are from Calormen; apparently you were enslaved there."

"Yes," she answered, "When I was only young, my brother and I were captured by a merchant and then sold into slavery, initially to a powerful tarkheen."

"This merchant," it was the younger boy, with black hair and blue eyes, "What type of merchant was he."

"Slave," she said, looking at him, "He was a slave merchant, hence my being sold as a slave." She looked at him; he raised his eyebrows. "I do not mean to be impertinent your majesty but-"

"I take no offence," he said, slightly coldly, "It was an obvious question."

"Carry on, dear lady," said the beautiful, older girl with blue eyes and brown flowing hair, "Ignore his majesty, King Edmund, and do finish the tale, sad though it is."

"Well," Ellen carried on, "This tarkheen, though powerful and rich, was not particularly nice to his slaves: those he considered below him." Her face hardened as she said this but she continued with the same calm and steady voice. "For many years I wished to escape but I had nowhere to go. Finally, after a long time, I... well... I...," She tailed off before finishing her sentence slightly different to how she had intended; "I looked to the north."

"To Narnia." Looking up Ellen saw that it was the youngest, hard to think of as a Queen at first glance, but she seemed to have a deep joy about her that went beyond her smile. She was looking at Ellen, her eyes intent, "So you travelled north to Narnia."

"Not straight away, your majesty. You see," She paused a moment before carrying on; "There were rumours about that the lands to the north, beyond the Great Desert. That they were lands of ice and snow, ruled by a witch with a heart as cold as the land she had created."

"And so they were," said the older boy, "But we defeated the White Witch."

"It was not only us, Peter," said the young girl, "Aslan helped us."

"So he did Lucy, so he did."

"Aslan," Ellen said, "You know of Aslan."

"Of course we do," said the older girl with a laugh, "Who does not?"

"Come now, Susan," said King Edmund, "How is she supposed to know? She has only recently arrived."

"No," Ellen said, "Of course you know of Aslan." She smiled before continuing, "It was Aslan who told me to come here, to travel to Narnia. About six months ago he came to me; he told me that I must travel north, to find what I was looking for and well... here I am."

"You spoke with Aslan." The Queen Lucy smiled.

"Yes your majesty."

"How wonderful," Queen Lucy said, "But you needn't call me 'your majesty': we're going to be great friends. I can tell."

"What happened to your brother – your twin?"

The question seemed to change the atmosphere in the room somewhat. It was King Edmund who asked it. His head was cocked slightly to the side as he stared at Ellen thoughtfully. She avoided eye contact, instead looking down at her hands.

"I," She took a breath and forced herself to look up; "He left me behind when he escaped." Her voice broke slightly. She had tried to avoid confronting this awful fact; her brother, her twin brother had abandoned her. Mentioning it to King Lune and Turil had been hard enough, but that King had moved the conversation away from the topic. This King was bringing it up. And now she felt as if she would cry. And in front of the Narnian monarchs too! She bit her tongue to hold back any tears.

"So that's why you've come here," King Edmund said, "To try and find the brother who abandoned you."

"Ed!" Peter glared at his brother. Ellen turned around, to hide her tears from the Kings and Queens.

"Oh you poor dear," Queen Susan said, and she got up off her throne and came over to Ellen. So did Queen Lucy but whilst Susan tried to comfort her, Lucy instead took her hand and gently led her from the hall.

"Come, I will show you the castle and your chambers," she laughed gaily, "And tomorrow I must take you to see where we first arrived in Narnia. We shall have such fun together!" Ellen wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled.

"Thank you." Ellen had never met someone like Lucy. Lucy had realised that Ellen hadn't wanted to cry in front of them, so had taken her out of the situation. Queen Susan was kind, of course she was, but Queen Lucy had a different sort of kindness; one that only comes from real compassion.

"So," said King Peter once Queen Lucy and Ellen had left the room, "What do you make of her?"

"She seems such a sweet child," said Queen Susan, "And what a terrible time she has had in Calormen."

"Yes," Edmund said, "Though why she would come here to find a brother who abandoned her I don't know!"

"Well that's a bit rich coming from you," Susan said, "Perhaps she wants to forgive her treacherous brother – I think I can relate to that." Edmund became rather quiet at this.

"That's a low blow Susan," Peter said to her. She bit her lip and went over to Edmund, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, "I just think that her forgiveness surely shows strength rather than weakness." Edmund didn't say anything. Susan sighed, before turning to leave, "I'm going to practice now." She picked up her bow, "Do buck up Ed – you've been sulking ever since we decided on that incident in the west."

"Come on Edmund," Peter said, once Susan had left the Throne room. He came over to his brother, "Do stop sulking."

"I'm not sulking!"

"Yes you are," Peter said, smirking a little, "You're sulking because you wanted to go hunting for wolves."

"Werewolves," Edmund corrected him, "There was a good chance that those creatures were werewolves."

"Perhaps," Peter said, "But now they're gone. So there's no need to worry." He smiled at his brother before striding out of the room, leaving King Edmund alone on his throne.

"I hope so," he said to the empty room, "I really hope so."

* * *

 **A/N: So Ellen has met High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund and Queen Lucy! That was a longer chapter but hopefully it makes up for that shorter one before. Ellen got a little sassy with King Edmund and then he made her almost cry so they don't seem to be getting along too well although neither of them are in the best condition: Ellen is tired from her travels whilst Edmund is annoyed at his siblings for not listening to him. Perhaps they just need some time...?**

 **I love Lucy: she's so sweet and charming and lovely. Queen Lucy the Valiant. And soon enough you'll be seeing that courage in this fic - give it a few chapters!** **And where did Mahlirra get to? ... Don't worry - I know where she is! (cos I'm the writer and am all-knowing!) ;) That's all in the next chapter which I just need to reread and check through etc. :D**

 **Well - I hope you're enjoying reading this and liked that chapter. As always, do share your opinions as** **Wandererzaehler did for chapter 8! Thank you very much for that. I love it when someone reviews - especially when they say nice things like you did! :D**

 **Keep reading; I'll update soon!**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**

 **P.S. In the next chapter I've written something that was never initially planned. I'm not sure about it so when I update it, I'll probably need some sort of opinion just to see what other people think about it... erm... yeah... when I read it sometimes I think yeah this works whilst other times I'm like no stop this fairytale madness! So... yeah... Heads up for the next chapter which is titled 'Dappled Light' and although it's longer than 'The Satyr's Mistake', it's shorter than most of the other chapters. So yeah... I'll put it up asap. :D :D**


	9. Dappled Light

Dappled Light

Queen Lucy leapt down steps and ran through archways, dragging Ellen along with her. The people they passed smiled at the sight of their beloved Queen and her new apparent friend; they were both of a similar age, Ellen being sixteen compared to Queen Lucy who was fifteen. Lucy had spent the whole afternoon showing Ellen every single nook and cranny of Cair Paravel and was now taking Ellen through the hidden entrance into her secret courtyard of willow trees. Inside the courtyard it was like being in a series of rooms full of green woven tapestries, the branches of the willow trees hanging low to the ground, shielding each separate tree trunk and its surrounding area in a small private space.

"Oh my," Ellen said in wonder as they moved through the courtyard, pushing willow branches gently aside and wandering around each of the trees, "We must show Mahlirra this," she told Lucy, "Her father's a willow tree."

"Of course," Lucy said. Ellen had told Lucy about Mahlirra during their exploration of the palace and Lucy had assured her that Mahlirra would be safe no matter where she was in the palace for everyone was kind and welcoming at Cair Paravel. "Why," she continued, "She might have already found it."

"How?!" Ellen exclaimed, "There's no way anyone who didn't know where it is could find this: it's so well hidden!"

"Oh but the Willow is a part of her," Lucy said, sitting down at the base of one of the trees, "With dryads it's intrinsically part of them: they can sense other trees of the same type. She'd be drawn to this place no matter what!"

"But she's not fully a dryad," Ellen said, sitting beside the Queen, "Would being a half-dryad have the same effect?"

"How would I be able to tell?" Lucy asked, laughing, "I hardly know her, and half-dryads are few and far between. Perhaps she would, perhaps she wouldn't. Who knows?" She laid her head against the tree trunk and closed her eyes. Ellen mimicked her movements and stared up at the green canopy above them. It was so beautiful here, so peaceful.

The willow trees sighed in the wind, their branches lifting a little off the ground. The light that made its way through the branches was dappled and made dancing patterns on the green of the grass. A little way off Ellen could hear a gentle splashing sound, as if someone was paddling in the pond nearby. She lifted her head up suddenly – there was someone doing just that; she could hear them talking quietly. There must be two people. She turned to Lucy who put her fingers to her lips in a gesture of silence. Standing up, she moved towards the voices, pushing her way through the willow screen into the next area. Ellen followed. They were now in a willow area just next to the pond. The voices were much clearer here.

"This place is incredible," came a male voice. Lucy grabbed Ellen's arm in surprise; it was her brother, the High King Peter, "How come I've ruled from Cair Paravel for seven years and yet never found it. I bet Lucy knew it was here!"

"It was very well hidden," came the reply. Ellen started at the sound of this voice; it was Mahlirra. "I only knew it was here because I could sense it. Like some part of me was drawn to those stone steps."

"The dryad part?"

"Yes," Mahlirra said, "My father is a willow tree. His forest is in Archenland."

"And you have come here to find your mother?"

"Yes that's right," she replied, "I came with Ellen."

"Ah yes," Peter said, "We spoke with her earlier this afternoon and then Lucy took her off to explore the castle. Everywhere, as she said – and I'm sure she'll manage it somehow!" Mahlirra's laugh could be heard but then she seemed to quieten a little when Peter asked: "But your mother?"

"Yes," Mahlirra said, "Well I've always thought that she was Narnian so... well..." For some reason she tailed off.

"Well," King Peter interjected, and Lucy and Ellen strained their ears to hear the next part as he lowered his voice to a tender whisper, "I hope you'll let me help you." A stronger breeze blew past Ellen and the branches in front of her drew apart for a second, giving her a glimpse of the scene on the other side.

They sat on the opposite side of the pond, right next to the water. The High King sat with his trousers rolled up to his knees and his feet submerged deep in the water of the pond. Mahlirra sat close beside him, her legs curled beneath her, propped up on her hand. King Peter was leaning in, looking down at her face, smiling gently. She was looking up at him, her head cocked slightly to the side, a look of blissful rapture on her face as she stared back at him. Their faces leant in closer and the willow branches swung back, preventing Ellen from seeing anymore. She turned to look at Lucy, who had gone slightly pink.

Without a word they quietly made their way out of the courtyard. Once they were a fair distance away, Lucy turned to Ellen.

"So that was Mahlirra?"

"Huh?" Ellen asked, looking a bit out of it. That must have been where Mahlirra had gone when she disappeared – to the courtyard of willows. And then she must have met the High King...

"She's beautiful." Lucy said, walking over to the parapet that looked to the west. In the distance they could see the sun sinking beyond the horizon. "Though we shouldn't have overheard that."

"No," Ellen said slowly and came and stood next to her, "Though you were right about the whole dryad sensing thing."

"We can't tell anyone," Lucy added, "Peter wouldn't want anyone to know; it's such a personal thing."

"Yes," Ellen said, still pondering over what she had seen. Of course she had realised that Mahlirra was beautiful and King Peter would probably agree with her– but she hadn't really thought her so... Ellen couldn't think of the word. So mature perhaps? Mahlirra was older than Ellen and Lucy, but Ellen wasn't sure how old. Old enough to kiss a King, she thought vaguely.

"What's she like?" Lucy asked, turning to Ellen urgently and pulling her out of her thoughts, "Is she nice? What does she like to do? Will they get on?"

"Woah," Ellen said, "So many questions!" She smiled, "Mahlirra is more than just nice: she is the sweetest and most gentle person I've ever met. She wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Oh good," Lucy said, "And what does she like?"

"Well," Ellen said, "I haven't know her too long but she's a brilliant rider – much better than me -"

"But you can ride?" Lucy said cutting across her, "You can ride, right?"

"Oh yes," Ellen said and then frowned, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh good," Lucy said relieved, "Get up early tomorrow: we've got a long ride."

"What?" Ellen looked at Lucy in confusion, "Where are we going?"

"I have to show you Lantern Waste – where we first came to Narnia. And I can tell you what happened and everything!"

"Ok," Ellen said, "But where is it? Where are we headed?" Lucy smiled and turned to look out over the parapet before answering Ellen with one simple word.

"West."

* * *

 **A/N: Well that was the next chapter... I'll need to update my summary to include the Peter/OC pairing! Would it be an eventual pairing or just a normal one? This is only nine chapters in so perhaps there's no need for the eventual part? I'm not too sure...**

 **Anyway, my wonderful readers, I hope you enjoyed it but do say if it seems a bit off, a bit not right or doesn't seem to flow - it'll help me to improve it so it is more enjoyable for the reader.**

 **Keep reading and checking for updates because I know I'm not the most regular writer when it comes to updating! :D**

 **SHS**

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	10. Into the West

Into the West

Their horses thundered along the forest path, both girls laughing and shouting to one another as they did. It was late afternoon and the sun was shining, slipping through the leaves of the trees to create dappled patterns on the forest floor. As they rode they would call out to passing creatures of the forest who were initially startled by the noise that they were making, but when they realised it was Queen Lucy and her new found friend, they would smile - such was the joy that the presence the Valiant Queen brought.

"Lucy," Ellen cried, "Are we nearly there? It feels like we've travelled through all of Narnia today and we still haven't arrived!"

"Don't worry Ellen," Lucy called back, "We're almost there! I recognise it."

"We're not going to be heading back today are we?"

"Of course not," Lucy laughed, "But Mr Tumnus is staying at his home this week – to get away from court – and he said we can come and stay whenever we want."

"Are we not seeing Lantern Waste then?"

"Yes silly," Lucy said, slowing her horse to a trot to allow Ellen to catch up, "But I want you to meet Mr Tumnus – he'd just left court when you arrived."

"Alright then," Ellen said, "How long till we get there?" Lucy pulled her horse up to a halt and dismounted.

"It's just down here," she said, "Come on." And she led her horse off the path and down into a dell. Ellen swung herself down and made to follow her friend but a loud snarling noise from the other side of the path had Silver spooked. She reared up and galloped off down the path, in the opposite direction to the way they had come.

"No! Silver, come back!" Ellen shouted after the retreating horse.

"What is it?" Lucy's head appeared over the edge of the slope.

"Silver just spooked," Ellen said, "There was a snarling coming from over there and she just took off up there."

"She'll slow down soon enough," Lucy said, "Come on; let's go get her." She led her stallion, Brinn, back up the slope and jumped on. Ellen clambered up behind her and they set off, at a brisk trot, after the spooked mare.

It was dark and there was a full moon in the sky by the time they finally spotted Silver up ahead: she must've galloped for a long while before slowing. Lucy spurred her horse on and they soon were riding parallel with Silver who had now slowed to a steady walk. Ellen slipped off Brinn and grabbed the reins around Silver's neck.

"Woah girl." She said in a calm voice, "Steady now." Silver was much calmer now, no doubt because of her long gallop and Ellen was able to easily get back in the saddle.

"Let's get back to Mr Tumnus'," Lucy said, "We've come much further west than I've ever been before. And it isn't safe."

Ellen nodded in agreement but before either of them could turn their horses around there came a terrible howling from their right. Silver, a much more nervous creature than Brinn, gave out a loud whiny and reared her head back but Ellen calmed her somewhat by making hushing noises. Brinn pawed the ground nervously. Ellen looked at Lucy who had gone white.

"What was that?" Ellen whispered, her voice shaking and her hands trembling.

"A wolf," Lucy said, her face pale, "Or worse. Oh I wish we'd listened to Ed."

"What?" Ellen asked confused, "Why?"

"Oh it doesn't matter now," Lucy answered, "Come on – we need to get back to Mr Tumnus' – right now." She turned Brinn around and Ellen made to follow her when there was another terrible howling, this time to their left. It was much louder and worse, coming from somewhere much closer.

Before Ellen could think, Silver was galloping away, heading further west. Her gallop was uncontrollable, fuelled by pure fear of whatever the thing was. Ellen clung on for dear life as she heard Lucy calling to her. But her voice was becoming more and more distant as she was taken further away from her.

"Silver, woah," Ellen said, attempting to calm her down. But it was much harder to calm a frightened horse when you yourself are terrified and only just managing to hold on.

She felt a sinking sense of doom as they charged further and further west; the trees rushing past her were getting taller and taller and denser and denser, and the forest surrounding her was silent save for the thudding of Silver's hooves. Not many Narnians came this far west. They had before the White Witch but the hundred year winter had driven them further from the borders. This part of Narnia, the Western March, was a part of Narnia that was on the border with the Western Wild, and it had not yet regained a sense of safety and security under the Pevensie's rule that the rest of Narnia had. It was said that the majority of the remnants of the White Witches army had fled west after the Battle of Beruna to seek refuge in the Western Wild.

Silver was starting to slow. The poor creature was exhausted after riding all day and this mad gallop west had taken it out of her. Ellen took advantage of her exhaustion and pulled gently on the reins. Silver slowed to a walk and then came to a halt, her head hanging low. Ellen gave her a long rein and tried to take her bearing. They had stayed on the path which was something because Lucy had told her that the path just went directly west all the way to the border. She supposed she was probably very close to this border.

Ellen felt in the saddle pouches for her water and found it was missing. It must have fallen out at some point in the mad charge of fear and terror. She sighed but then she listened... Was that water she could hear? It sounded like it – bubbling or roaring away just to her left – a river or stream? She slipped off Silver's back and took a firm hold of her reins and led her through the moonlit forest after the sound of the bubbling water.

Silver's occasional snorting and her warm presence just by Ellen's right shoulder were a comfort to her as they walked through the wood. The terrible howling and what it might have been kept slinking into her mind but she tried to forget about it. There wasn't anything she could do about that now. Silver was too exhausted to get back to Lucy quickly. What they needed now was water and that's what Ellen was hopefully getting them to. The problem was the forest was dense and there were large thorn bushes that blocked her path which she had to keep going around or areas of densely packed trees which didn't leave enough space for a horse to get through.

"Oh bother!" She cried as she came across another thorn bush, much bigger than the others she had come across. What made it worse was the fact that she could hear the water, right on the other side of the bush!

At that moment a huge black cloud passed across the moon leaving her and Silver in complete darkness. Silver pawed the ground nervously and uttered a quiet whiny. From the other side of the thorn bush came an answering growl. Silver started to back away from the bush, whinnying in fear. Ellen switched sides so that she was on the other side of Silver, holding the reigns with firmly with her left hand. With her right she slowly drew her sword. She could hear the padding of large paws on the other side of the bush, moving to her right. Silver backed away from the sounds.

"Come on then!" Ellen shouted, trying to sound brave but the falter in her voice gave her away. The growling grew louder, coming from just to the right of the bush. At that moment the moon came out from behind the cloud and lit the forest with its silvery light.

Ellen's knees almost gave way. She heard Silver make a sound that almost sounded like a scream and the reins were wrenched from her grasp as the terrified mare ran away. Ellen tightened her grip on her sword and pointed it at the monster before her. Her hands shook.

It was a wolf. But its limbs were longer and thinner than a wolf's ought to be. Its paws were almost hand like and extenuated by long sharp claws. It stood, not on all fours like a normal wolf should, but on its hind legs, standing taller than Silver had she stayed. What terrified Ellen the most however, was none of these horrendous physicality's, but rather its eyes. They were not the eyes of a dumb beast but the eyes of a human man. Intelligent yet brutal and dark, full of hatred and evil.

She raised her sword, and called out the name of Aslan. The werewolf snarled and then pounced.

* * *

 **A/N: Well there is the next chapter! I'd just like to thank Halcyontides for reviewing. I was going to pm you because it was such a fab review and made me very happy, but I wasn't sure if I was on the right account for you! So thank you and sure it's ok to prefer Mahlirra. She's such a sweetie! At the moment... hehehe... Or am I bluffing? Or am I double-bluffing? Ok - I've confused myself!**

 **So what are the opinions on this chapter? Yay or neigh? (See what I did there with the neigh not nay - cos there's lots of horsey stuff in this one ;))** **Was it good, bad, ugly? Or just whaaaaaat?**

 **But seriously, I hope you're enjoying reading it and if there are any mistakes, from plot holes to grammatical errors, please point it out. Silly things like that can destroy a piece of writing. Unless I've already done that. Somehow. Somewhere. Somewhat. Who knows?**

 **This author's note is a bit odd isn't it? Ah well... ;)**

 **May the [mass x acceleration] be with you. And once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia. Oh - and not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts. [bit oh le Einstein for y'all Physics gals out there. ;)]**

 **I'll stop now. I hope you have a lovely evening/morning/afternoon/day/life :D**

 **SHS**

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 **P.S. Yes I got the literal words of this chapter's title from the Lord of the Rings song. I just really like that song! :D**

* * *

 _oh dear._


	11. A Wolf and the Lion

A Wolf and The Lion

 _Or What Happened to Queen Lucy at the Howling of the Werewolf._

Lucy turned Brinn around and Ellen made to follow her when there was another terrible howling, this time to their left. It was much louder and worse, coming from somewhere much closer.

Before Lucy could think of anything to say or even cry out in terror, Brinn, her usually calm and composed stallion reared up in terror. She tried to cling on but when Brinn reared, he stood almost vertically and Lucy was taken unawares. She slipped right off him to the ground and watched in dismay as he galloped away. She turned around to see Ellen, only just managing to cling on, as Silver galloped off through the trees, heading further into the west. This was not a good situation to be in.

She un-slung her bow off her back and notched an arrow in place. She couldn't hear the creature anymore yet she was almost certain of what it had been. She had seen werewolves before and although she had never faced them face to face, she had recognised that howl. What was worse was that there had been at least two of them. Werewolves were lonesome creatures. They were unlike wolves in that they liked to travel on their own; it was rare even to find a couple together, but Lucy was in no doubt about what she had heard. Two werewolves were here in the Western Marches of Narnia. They must have fled here after the Battle of Beruna, in hiding and waiting for the unwary travellers like herself and Ellen.

Lucy walked, tentatively over to the side of the path the howl had come from. She couldn't hear anything. Her hands were trembling slightly so she took a deep breath in and then out. There was a slight crackling sound of snapping twigs. Lucy froze for a second. Then she raised her bow and stretched the string taut, straining to see into the gloom of the undergrowth. There was a moment of silence and then the creature leapt from the trees heading straight for Lucy. She let an arrow lose as she hurriedly backed away. As she tried to pull another arrow from her quiver she tripped and fell over a lose bit of earth. She landed with a thump and looked up as the werewolf was upon her.

There was a roar like the earth had cracked open or the sky had fallen down, and Lucy saw a flash of gold fall upon the werewolf pushing it to the ground, with a great gash across its throat. The monster lay on the floor, moaning piteously for a moment before the lion finished the job.

"Aslan?" Lucy said. The lion turned and indeed it was the Great Lion himself, in all his splendour, seeming to emit a golden light.

"Queen Lucy," Aslan said and smiled.

"Oh Aslan," Lucy cried, "Oh Aslan, it's gone so wrong. There are werewolves in Narnia. Edmund was right of course. I knew he was. But I didn't speak up. It was such a terrifying thing to consider. But he was right. And now we're all worse off for not listening to him. Oh gosh how silly we've been and - "

"What has happened dear one?" Aslan asked, cutting her off gently.

"They spooked our horses and she disappeared – Ellen that is - heading west." Lucy told him, rushing over her words, "There is another one – we heard it – and I fear for my friend. Oh Aslan, you must help her." She faltered a little at the look on his face. "What – what is it?"

"Calm yourself my Queen," Aslan said, "Your friend is safe. The dryads have found her. I sent them west to look out for you both. I sent them out though there are but few heart trees west of Lantern Waste, but soon that will change. Indeed, many things will change in your reign and none for the worse. You have only just begun, though to you it seems to have been so long already. You have only just started out, and I would say that only Edmund out of all of you is beginning to be who he is destined to be. But do not worry my dear, this is only the beginning. There is much more to come, so very much more."

"But Aslan," Lucy said, "The werewolves. There are at least two of them."

"There are more than two dear one," Aslan said, his voice deepening, "Seven of the witch's wolf-men fled but not far enough. There are seven in these woods, or at least there were seven."

"What?" Lucy said, astounded, yet she could not fear, not with Aslan, "Seven...but you say there are seven no longer."

"One is dead here which leaves us with six and whether fewer still? That will be down to your friend, the bold Lady Ellen."

"Where is she?"

"Do not fear my child, she will return but you must now go back, Mr Tumnus is awaiting you. Ah, and here is your frightened stallion, Brinn the brisk, and so briskly he come back to you now." And so he was, trotting back up the track towards Lucy, no fear or terror in his movements.

"Brinn!" Lucy said and hurried over to her horse, "But Aslan - " She turned to speak to him but there was nothing there but the empty path and the whispering trees. Brinn nudged her with his nose and she patted him. She hesitated, only for a moment, looking west to where she knew Ellen to be. But Aslan said she was safe and that Lucy must go to Mr Tumnus. She got back into the saddle and turned Brinn's head. Off they walked, back east to safety.

Brinn was plodding along at a tired walk by the time Lucy finally reached the turning for the dell. It was almost dawn by the time she arrived at Tumnus' and she was exhausted, slumped in her saddle, her eyes half closed. Mr Tumnus came out of his cave as soon as he saw her arrive.

"Your majesty," he said, coming over to her, "Lucy my dear whatever's happened? A dryad came and told me to look out for you. I told her that I already knew you were coming but she said that things had gone awry and you would be later, that Aslan had visited them."

"It's a long story," Lucy said, slipping out of the saddle. Mr Tumnus caught her and helped her into his cave. He sat her down on the armchair by the fire and disappeared, reappearing a while later with tea and biscuits.

"I didn't have time to make anything proper but this should do for now."

"Thank you," Lucy said, her eyes slipping shut. A moment later and she was fast asleep, curled up beside his fire - as if it was that very first time, so many years before.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you're enjoying it so far. Is the pace too slow? This is the twelfth chapter and it's taken almost this long just to set up the story! Aargh - I really don't know. I could really do with some opinions on it...**

 **Also, I'm thinking of changing the title; 'Finding A Beginning' seems a bit yawn. But would that be the most annoying thing ever to randomly change the title? I've already changed the summary so... ?**

 **Yikes! Am I just overthinking this?**

 **Thanks for your time and sorry for being all aaaargh in this author's note. I'm a bit stressed at the moment. :/**

 **But have a nice day of the week and it's Easter soon so yay! Chocolate!**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	12. The Willow Rebellion

The Willow Rebellion

Turil hurried down the corridor. As he passed the tall floor length windows he could see glimpses of the night sky, clear and cloudless. King Lune needed to hear this; he wouldn't believe it. No one who knew anything about the culture of Archenland could believe this. And yet it was happening.

Turil had first gone to his majesty's bedchamber but he had not been there. A guard had told him that the King had gone to check on his son, Prince Corin, and so would be in the Royal Nursery. So off Turil had trotted to the nursery. This whole journey was beginning to feel familiar and Turil couldn't help but feel a sense of de-ja-vu. In fact this whole ordeal was making him think about that slave-girl from Tashbaan. What had her name been? Turil could not recall though she had certainly made an impression on Mahlirra; whisking her off, away from the castle. Turil tutted slightly in his haste: taking off like that, from a place so near to her home and her father, what had that dryad-girl been thinking! He had a sneaking suspicion that her disappearance had somehow caused all this.

Turil rounded the corner and came to the doors of the nursery. He knocked on the door which was opened by the wet nurse.

"Where is the King?" He asked, "It's important."

"I don't know," she replied, "He was here no less than an hour ago. He took Prince Corin and disappeared. The poor babe wouldn't stop crying so the King said he would take him for a walk."

"Where?"

"Like I said," she answered, somewhat coldly, "I don't know." She closed the door in his face. Turil had no time to be annoyed by her rudeness. He needed to find the King. His majesty was eccentric in his habits, especially when it came to his son, or when he couldn't sleep. He would do the oddest things. Why – Turil thought – he had decided to call that new rose in the courtyard after Mahlirra because it reminded him of a willow tree. Turil stopped – the Rose Courtyard. Of course that was where the King would be. He loved the Roses and the Courtyard was his favourite place, he spent a lot of time there, especially since Prince Cor's disappearance.

Without another moment of hesitation Turil turned on the spot and headed to the eastern side of the castle.

King Lune was standing, his son asleep in his arms, staring out eastwards, his back to his beloved roses. He heard the doors open and the clipping sound of the faun hurrying over to him.

"Your majesty," Turil said, wheezing slightly from hurrying to find his King, "It's the dryads. They've risen in open rebellion."

"I know," King Lune said and took out of his pockets a letter, "Read this. It's from Salix."

Turil took the letter. Lune returned to staring out over the parapet, cradling Prince Corin to his chest. The letter was sealed with red wax, the soft imprint of a willow just visible. He opened it and read the contents:

* * *

 _ **To the tyrant Lune, supposed King of the Free Realm of Archenland, and all his corrupt advisors;**_

 _Too long has this once free realm been under the control of man and his consorts. The Dryads are an ancient and powerful people, an innate part of these northern lands. Yet for too long we have been subdued by the haste and rash decisions of you and your forebears, decisions oft made in anger and with hate._

 _I, Salix of the Mountain Slopes, have a host of five hundred of the strongest Dryads from the forests of the north. We march on Anvard and though I bear you and your courtiers no good will, I do not wish this to come to violence or bloodshed. You cannot overcome us. We are a part of the land. And when we rise up against your authority, as we have done, so too has the physical land of this country._

 _For the lives of the innocents in your care, I ask you to surrender and allow us to take command of the ancient capital without bloodshed. If you chose to take up arms against us there is only one possible outcome: the death of you and all those you love and protect. This we do not want. When we arrive at Anvard at dusk on the morrow, we expect the gates to be open and no arms to be taken up against us._

 _We can assure the safety of all innocents, your son included, as well as most of your courtiers. However, as to yourself and a select few, we cannot promise this. We shall conduct trials for all the crimes against the Dryads done by you and the other guilty persons. The sentence will be death._

 _I, in this letter, have been honest with you; something you have always failed to do with me and my people. The decision is yours, but if you do chose to attempt to fight us, I cannot assure the safety of anyone, least of all you or your son._

 _May Aslan guide you in this decision, though I fear you have turned from him completely._

 _Yours in good faith,_

 _Salix of the Willow,_

 _Leader of the Dryads_

* * *

Turil finished reading, there was a look of disgust on his face. King Lune was still staring out eastward.

"When did you receive this letter?"

"Just before I went to bed."

"I see," Turil paused before asking, "You're not going to do what he suggests your majesty? He is a traitor and though he tries to justify what he is doing, there is no possible justification: the Dryads have always been treated with respect by you and all your forebears!"

"Turil," King Lune said, turning to the faun, "Why did you come to find me?"

"To tell you of this."

"But why specifically?"

"So we can arm ourselves. So we can try to speak with the Dryads and find out why they are doing this." Turil stared at his King; why was he not responding, why was he standing there as if resigned to such evil? "WE MUST STOP THIS ABSURD REBELLION! WE MUST STAND AGAINST IT!" He exclaimed, scaring even himself with his anger: he had never raised his voice before, especially not at his King.

"We cannot defeat them." King Lune said simply, "Tell me how many dryads are heading to Anvard. What are the numbers?"

"Lady Pamela was the one who spotted them," Turil said, resigned, "She was riding for the Mountain Pass when she spotted them. Her estimates were between four hundred and seven hundred."

"If there's one thing I'm certain about," King Lune said, taking the letter back, "It's that a Dryad can be counted on for honesty at the very least. He said five hundred. That's how many there are."

"We can't just do nothing."

"I respect Salix," King Lune said, "What he says is true. Why should I get to govern this land? Why should one man get that power?" Turil was horrified. Salix had a way with words but he had not expected his King to be so convinced by this poisonous letter.

"Aslan appointed your forebears. You get your power from Aslan." Turil said desperately, "It is a power given to you and only the Great Lion can take that away."

"But my son," Lune turned back to Turil and he saw that his King was crying, "I can't risk his life."

"You think that Salix will let him be if you hand over Anvard?" Turil said, incredulous, "He would not risk that – the heir would always be a threat to him, and you know that! If Salix gains control of Anvard, Prince Corin is as good as dead."

"What do I do?"

"We must delay the dryads for as long as we can," Turil said, "We should send out a party to speak with them. I have already sent word to Cair Paravel via Ibin the Owl. They will know by morning. The Pevensies will help us."

King Lune nodded and took a deep breath. "We must organise the party who are to go to parley with the Dryads."

"I'd be happy to go your majesty," Turil said, "I'd give Salix a piece of my mind that treacherous little stick!"

"Oh no," King Lune said, smiling at this uncharacteristic anger from the faun, "You must stay here in case things do not go as planned. I'll go with a delegation made up of Naiads, beasts and Oren the centaur. If only we still had Mahlirra. I suppose it would be too much to ask for her to talk to her father."

"Perhaps she is with him?" Turil said, "Perhaps she has joined in this madness alongside the others. What were they thinking?"

"They are loyal primarily to Salix," Lune said sadly, "He is the oldest Dryad, the wisest. Of course they would follow him. I just don't understand what sparked this in Salix himself."

Turil didn't answer; he was staring thoughtfully out to the sea. Lune looked down at his son. Prince Corin was still sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the rebellion, of the unrest amongst the most peaceful of people, amongst the wise and kindly Dryads.

Away to the north the line of the forest crept closer to Anvard.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh dear... It's not going too well for poor King Lune. And there are werewolves in Narnia! Don't worry - we'll be returning to Ellen in the next chapter to see how she dealt with that werewolf, and Mahlirra will be appearing again next chapter as well but until then it'd be great to get some opinions on this chapter.**

 **Was it a bit out of the blue? That's actually sort of how I want it to come across... But what ignited this in the dryads, in Mahlirra's father of all people? Don't worry I, as the omniscient writer, know the answer to all the questions... sort of... ;)**

 **Also - Happy Easter!**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**

 **PS: Turil was originally just a filler character, an extra, but I really like him now. He just oozes that loyal servant vibe - like Ser Davos in Game of Thrones or Samwise Gamgee. King Lune is lucky to have him I think. He's a good advisor and I'm imagining him as having sort of goatish good looks. Not sure why...**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading and please do leave an opinion: reviews are, and always will be, the bomb! :D**


	13. In the Arms of an Oak

In the Arms of an Oak

She was tangled in thick coarse fur, fighting against sharp claws and jagged teeth. The hilt of her sword dug into her ribs as she jabbed up and out, into the beast that was on top of her. She could smell dog of the worst sort. It hit the back of her throat, making her gag and then there was fur in her mouth smothering her, stopping her from breathing. She was choking and there was wetness running down her forehead and oozing onto her hands which gripped her sword. Surely she would die here.

She tried to cry out, all she could see was the black of the werewolf who buried her, but only a muffled gagging sound came out of her mouth. She was wheezing and suddenly she realised that she couldn't breathe. She panicked. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. She could not breathe! Slowly the world disappeared; slowly it faded to black as she struggled for a breath that just would not come... She fainted and knew no more...

She came to. Her head hurt. That was something she could feel. And was that a rocking motion? Was she being rocked like a babe in a cradle? Her eyes felt so heavy. That was why it was dark: her eyes were closed. What was that tickling her face? Her head really hurt. And so did her ribs: they were aching like a bad toothache. There it was again – that tickling on her face. She needed to open her eyes. She needed to see where she was. Was she on a boat? What else could that rocking be? And that tickling was happening again – just on her cheek. She moaned.

"She's waking up, Quercus." Who was that?

"We're almost there, Fraxa." That was a different voice, "Mr Tumnus will look after her."

"She's still bleeding though," said the first voice, Fraxa.

"No she isn't," said Quercus, "That's just blood that has already come out. She is bleeding no more." She tried to open her eyes; she needed to see who these people were, and where she was now.

"Look," said Fraxa, "Her eyes twitched."

"You're imagining things: her eyes are closed."

"Yes I can see that," Fraxa retorted, "But look her eyes are twitching – she must be awake." She moaned again and forced her eyes open. What she saw confused her. She was looking up at Oak leaves. There was one close by her, tickling her cheek. She blew at it.

"There now Quercus," said Fraxa, "I told you to comb your branches – she's finding them annoying. Now, what did Aslan say she was called?"

"Ellen," she said, trying to sit up, "My name's Ellen." She looked about her and was astounded at where she was. It looked as if an Oak tree was carrying her, whilst besides them walked an Ash tree. She blinked. They weren't trees; they were people. How could she have thought they were trees? They were obviously people. Tall in form and treeish in their looks perhaps, but people. Definitely people. She looked again. No – they were trees. It was clear she was being carried by an Oak tree whilst beside her walked an Ash tree. No! A tall young woman. And this tall man carried her, not an Oak! Ellen raised her hand to her forehead. It really hurt. She brought her hand down and saw the blood. That was why her head hurt.

"Don't worry," said the Ash tree, "We'll be at the Tumnus' cave soon enough: he'll look after you."

"What are you?" She had meant to say who – of course she had meant to ask who they were – but it had come out wrong.

"We're dryads," said the Oak tree, "I'm Quercus and this is Fraxa." The Ash tree smiled at her. The dryad woman – they were dryads.

"Oh," Ellen said, "So that's what real dryads are like." She smiled as the two of them chuckled. "What happened?"

"You killed a werewolf."

"Oh really," Ellen said absent-mindedly; a sparrow had landed on Quercus's head and was trying to pick up some of his twig-like hair, to no avail. "How wonderful." The sparrow flew off and Ellen remembered something important, "Where's Queen Lucy?!"

"Don't you worry," said Fraxa gently, "The Queen is safe with Tumnus – and soon you will be too."

"But there are werewolves."

"Yes," Fraxa and Quercus exchanged a look, "But they're only strong at night. They're almost harmless in daytime – they stay hidden in dark places."

"Oh," Ellen said, relieved, "Ok." Her head was really beginning to throb.

"Hello there!"

Ellen looked up to see a faun trotting towards them, his hand still raised in greeting. Was this the famous Mr Tumnus that Lucy had told her about?

"Mr Tumnus," said Quercus, "You didn't need to come out so far to meet us." So it was Mr Tumnus, Ellen thought, and then she noticed that he seemed anxious.

"Quercus, Fraxa," he said, coming up to them, "Is she able to walk?"

"Why?" Fraxa asked, "Whatever's the matter?"

"I'm not sure you should come much further that's all, you see - " But he was cut off by the sound of hooves and a second later four horses trotted out of the trees.

On the largest, a white stallion, sat the High King. He was first into the clearing that they stood in and right behind him was Mahlirra riding a brown mare. Lucy followed on her own horse, Brinn, and behind her came a black stallion. Riding this dark horse was King Edmund.

As soon as Mahlirra saw Ellen, she leapt of her horse and hurried over to them. Lucy followed, a look of unsurprised relief on her face.

"Is she ok?" Mahlirra asked, but as she came over to the two dryads they both retreated, becoming more treelike in their appearance. "What?" She asked, confused, "What is it?"

"So this is Salix's daughter then." Quercus said, barely hiding his contempt, "The half-dryad traitor."

"What?" Mahlirra said, looking both hurt and confused, "I don't understand. What are you saying? Let me see my friend."

"Hold your tongue Oak." Peter leapt down from his horse and strode over to them, "She is a friend of Narnia, a friend of ours."

"Her father isn't," Fraxa said, coming forwards, "Not since he rose up against King Lune – not since he sided with the Calormene and betrayed us to their Tisroc!"

"What! No!" Mahlirra turned to the High King, "Did you know of this?"

"It was his majesty who told us," said Fraxa, "All the Narnian dryads were informed of this."

"Yes," said Quercus, an edge to his voice as he glared at King Peter, "In case we tried to join our Archenland brethren against our own rulers." He put Ellen on the ground, none too gently, and walked away, soon disappearing amongst the other trees of the forest.

"You must forgive Quercus, your majesty," Fraxa said, helping Ellen to her feet, "He is hurt not by anything you have done, but because Salix was a good friend so his betrayal hurts all the more. His loyalty to you would never waver. All Narnians are devoted to their Kings and Queens."

"We know." Ellen looked up: it was King Edmund, the only one still sitting upon his horse. "We know this. What my brother is upset about is your reaction to Mahlirra. Your rudeness was unjustified – she is not her father. And," he paused, "My brother is fond of her."

Ellen scrutinised him: she felt almost certain that there was more to his words than what he let on. She stood up and went over to Mahlirra. The half-dryad was standing staring out into the distance, a look of horror on her face.

"Mahlirra?" Ellen took her hand and squeezed it, "Are you ok?" Mahlirra snapped out of her reverie; a tear was falling down her cheek. She looked at Ellen as if she had only just noticed that she was there.

"What," she said, before turning to face King Peter, Queen Lucy and King Edmund, "Why have you failed to tell me this about my father?" She let go of Ellen's hand and moved towards the High King. Lucy moved to intercept her.

"We only recently realised that you were his daughter." She paused, "Mahlirra, Cair Paravel only heard of it this morning. We were going to tell you. Of course we were, but things were happening."

"Like the werewolves," Edmund put in, his face glum, "We should not linger here. It is getting dark already."

"I should go after Quercus," Fraxa said, wringing her hands, "If your majesties will forgive me. Mahlirra I am sorry. I was angry and upset. I hope in time we can be friends?" Mahlirra ignored this; she was still staring at the High King. Peter was staring back at her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Fraxa glanced around then bowed and slipped off between the trees.

"Thank you," Ellen called after her before turning back to the others. Mr Tumnus stood wringing his hands, unsure what to do. He must have realised that Mahlirra's presence would anger the dryads. Lucy was biting her lip, looking between King Peter and Mahlirra. It was King Edmund who took control.

"Peter we need to go," he said, "We only came out from fear for Lucy and Ellen. We came out in haste and now all of us should get back to Tumnus's cave – to safety."

"Of course," Peter said, still gazing ardently at Mahlirra. She matched his gaze. Ellen glanced between them both. There seemed to be something going on, a conversation or an argument, which was only for the two of them. No one else seemed to matter. Neither of them made any attempt to move. Edmund rolled his eyes, something only Ellen seemed to notice.

"Lucy, take Mr Tumnus," he said, "You've ridden double with him before."

"Alright," Lucy said, giving one last glance to Peter and Mahlirra. She and Tumnus got onto Brinn and turned to leave the clearing.

"Peter," Edmund said, moving his horse over to his brother, "Remember there are werewolves?"

"Oh yes," Peter said, finally tearing his eyes away from Mahlirra's, "Of course."

"Take Mahlirra," he said and then turned to Mahlirra, "Please tell me you can bear to ride double with him. Otherwise it's a long walk." Mahlirra nodded but didn't take Peter's hand when he offered it, instead leaping on directly from the ground. They turned and rode after Lucy and Tumnus, leaving Ellen standing awkwardly alone. Edmund trotted over to her.

"Can you get on yourself?" He asked, more gently, "Or shall I give you a leg up."

"I can manage," Ellen said, a little quickly. There was something about King Edmund that she was still wary of, despite the kindness of his siblings. For some reason she didn't want to appear weak before him, especially as they were alone.

"As you wish," he said and sat still as she attempted to clamber up. The problem was that she had only once ridden double with someone before and that was with the petit Queen Lucy. And King Edmund's black stallion was so much bigger.

She walked round to the left hand side because she had only ever got on from that side, and tried to hop on behind Edmund. She couldn't quite manage it.

"Ellen," Edmund said, after a few more of her clumsy attempts, "We really need to get going." Ellen looked about; it was getting darker. She grabbed the other side of the saddle again and tried to heave herself on to no avail. Edmund sighed and got off the horse.

"I can do it ok!" Ellen said, irrationally annoyed at him because she knew that she couldn't. He should've realised: her head surely must still have some blood on it.

"By the Lion's Mane, Ellen!" Edmund said, staring at the blood on her forehead, "We thought you'd just got lost. What on earth happened?"

"Just got lost?!" Ellen asked, incredulously, "I nearly got torn to pieces by a werewolf!" She stared up at him; he was a good few inches taller than her. He had a curious expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, and then he lifted her up onto his horse. Ellen spluttered a little: he was surprisingly strong and it had been unexpected.

He got on behind her and took the reins, his arms holding her steady, preventing her from falling off as he kicked his stallion into a quick trot. Ellen raised her hand to her forehead. Her head really hurt. And she could feel King Edmund's breath on the top of her hair. His body was emitting heat, warming her from behind. She swallowed. What had he said sorry for? The blood on her head? His behaviour? The werewolf? – as if he had any control of that, Ellen thought to herself.

"It's not too long a ride," he told her nonchalantly, "We'll be there before its too dark." She nodded, still wondering what he had apologised for.

* * *

For Edmund, the Just King, that short ride through the forest dusk was significant. The small, dark-skinned girl in his arms may not have been the prettiest, but there was something about her. Something he couldn't quite work out.

He would rather their journey had gone on for longer. And he wouldn't have been able to say why.

* * *

 **A/N: First of all - thank you to 'guest' for your review for the last chapter. I'm glad you're enjoying it! :D This ones a bit of a longer chapter for me so I hope it lives up to its length. When I wrote it I just got really carried away - in fact I wrote this chapter before King Lune's chapter 'the Willow Rebellion' and the inspiration for some of the rebellion details came from writing this chapter.**

 **I was wondering - should I have put this chapter before the last chapter? I was going to but then I thought that Salix's letter was a better way for the wonderful read (you!) to find out about his rebellion. Or am I jumping around too much? I quite like getting different viewpoints in, especially King Lune and Turil. I think I might have mentioned last chapter, but Turil is really growing on me.**

 **It got a bit angsty with Peter and Mahlirra though! I've recently written a future part of a chapter for those two... it gave me that warm feeling in my belly - just something to look forward to in the romance department. ;) But those two - I really feel like they have something which is odd for a love at first sight attraction, but it seems to have grown into more than just passion. Love perhaps?**

 **Anyway - so that chapter was a little longer because it was an inspiration chapter. I literally just came up with that name! - for those chapters which you write and then they inspire you so you can't seem to stop writing.**

 **I hope you enjoyed it and as always I love your reviews! xx**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	14. The Muster of Cair Paravel

The Muster of Cair Paravel

"And we do swear loyalty to our Kings and Queens," the dryad kneeling before the four thrones was finishing off his oath, "To defend this realm and that of Archenland against any insurgence."

Ellen stood to the left and slightly behind the throne of Queen Lucy. After they had arrived back at Cair Paravel her head had been seen to. Luckily it was only a shallow cut which had just happened to bleed copiously.

After the shock of the Dryad rebellion in Archenland, the Pevensies had quickly responded, mustering as many of their people on their way back from the west. The Dryads were understandably the last to join. It had been Mahlirra who had managed to persuade them before she had vanished. She had disappeared in such a way as to cause as little disturbance as possible: it would have been unnoticeable had it not been for Peter.

As soon as the High King had realised that she had disappeared he had spent hours searching for her, riding off on his own to search the surrounding land, to no avail. He had been distraught, and quite unable to lead, until his brother had taken him aside. No one quite knew what King Edmund had said but now the High King had seemingly put Mahlirra out of his mind as he and his siblings prepared for battle.

"Thank you Cedrus," he said to the kneeling dryad, "Assemble your brethren: we march for Anvard tomorrow at dawn." The dryad stood up and bowed before exiting the throne room.

"I hope Anvard can hold out," Edmund said, "Or all our strength will be nothing. Salix has sworn to have Lune's head as soon as Anvard falls."

"I just don't understand what could possibly have turned him so violently against his own King," Queen Susan said, "It's terrifying."

"I'm sure we'll find out," Peter said, "But I don't suppose it'll be a particularly pleasant reason."

"You'll have to send word as soon as you do," Edmund said, "For I shan't be going: we still have werewolves to deal with here."

"It does all seems to be happening at once," Lucy said sadly before turning to Ellen, "You'll come with us though? Won't you, Ellen?"

"No she won't." Edmund answered before Ellen could even think of her response, his tone sounding both final and determined.

"Excuse me?" Ellen asked, affronted by Edmund's words, "But why won't I be going?"

"I need your help tracking down the five werewolves still at large in Narnia," he answered, "You've already killed one."

"Oh." Ellen said. His answer had thrown her slightly; she didn't think he had thought that much of her; she who was incapable of even getting onto a horse behind him. She looked at him and for a second their eyes made contact. His gaze had an intensity behind it that almost scared her, but it was he who finally looked away, turning to talk to his sister, Queen Susan.

The next morning, Ellen got up as early as everyone else. The army was camped just outside Cair Paravel in fluttering tents of gold and red which were being taken down by the time Ellen made her way to the courtyard where the High King and his sisters were being seen off. As soon as Queen Lucy saw her arrive, she hurried over to her and gave her a hug.

"Look after yourself," she said, taking her hands in her own, "And Edmund too – don't let him do anything too dangerous. He wouldn't risk anyone's life but his own, yet when it comes to his own life... Well... he's not as careful as he should be."

"I understand," Ellen said, "But you're the ones who need to be careful – you're going into battle!"

"Well if we arrive in time we should easily put down the rebellion," she answered, "It's just if we're too late. It'd make so much difference if Mahlirra was coming with us – she could talk to her father – dissuade him from this madness."

"Lucy," called Susan from atop her palfrey, "Come on – we need to get going: we need to be in front of the first company."

"Alright I'm coming," Lucy called back to her sister. She gave Ellen a final hug before hurrying over to her horse.

"Good luck!" Ellen called as they began to move towards the gate.

Suddenly there came a clattering from the bridge and a wild horse came galloping into the courtyard, holding the whole procession up. Astride it was Mahlirra, looking weatherworn with her hair long and tangled, flying out behind her. As soon as her horse stopped she leapt off and looked around frantically.

"Peter?" She called, "Peter!" The High King dismounted and hurried over to her, turning her gently round to face him.

"You came back." It was a statement. Mahlirra nodded and neither of them seemed to notice that everyone was watching them. "I'm glad you did," he said, a tear in his eye and a smile on his face. Then he leant down and kissed her, taking her face in his hands as he did. She responded avidly, her arms entwining around his neck, pulling him in towards her.

Finally they broke apart and Mahlirra lowered her voice a little to tell him something. Ellen was too far away to hear what she said but it made him smile all the more. He looked up and called for a fresh horse to be brought for her. Mahlirra looked around and saw Ellen. She came over to her.

"I'm going with them," she told her, calmly, "My father – he's made a mistake – I can talk him out of what he's doing."

"I don't think it's going to be that simple," Ellen said, "No one knows what's ignited this but your father... He wants blood. The messages we've received have said as much... Mahlirra..."

"That's why I left," Mahlirra said, "I needed time to think. But I've decided – I can help peaceful talks, diplomacy."

"If anyone can sort this out peacefully," Ellen said, smiling a little, "It's you."

"You be careful," Mahlirra added, "With King Edmund and his werewolf hunts. Don't do anything stupid."

"What do you mean by that?!" Ellen asked, indignant.

"Like going off on your own into a dangerous part of Narnia – like you did before."

"My horse spooked! I had no control. I -"

"Ellen please," Mahlirra said, cutting across her, "Remember that your life matters too. Don't risk it unnecessarily."

"Mahlirra!" The High King called; they were waiting for her, her horse standing ready.

"Please Ellen just promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"Mahlirra," Ellen said incredulous, "You're the one going to stop a rebellion."

"Just promise me!"

"Ok," Ellen said, confused by this uncharacteristic outburst from Mahlirra, "I promise not to do anything stupid. Happy?"

"Thank you." Mahlirra smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek before hurrying back to the procession. She leapt onto her horse beside the High King and then they were trotting out of the courtyard, leaving Ellen standing alone, feeling more than just a little confused.

That was when a brown rabbit came up to her, hopping along the cobblestones. It stood up on its hind legs and gave its ears a scratch before introducing itself.

"I'm Russell," he said, "Queen Lucy said that you were a friend. Apparently you killed one of those werewolves."

"Yes," Ellen said, slightly taken aback by this to-the-point introduction, "Can I... er... Can I help you?"

"Well," the rabbit wrung his paws nervously, "You see I was hoping you'd be able to escort me to the Western Marches – I want to find my friend Marcus. He's a Satyr. He promised me he'd join me at Cair Paravel, but he hasn't."

"Oh," Ellen said and then realised who the rabbit was, "You're the one who warned everyone about the werewolves."

"Well... yes –in my own way." He paused before looking directly at her, "So can you?"

"What?"

"Take me to find my friend Marcus? We could get to his cave and be back at Cair Paravel before dark if we left soon."

Ellen thought a moment. It was that or stay at Cair Paravel with the stern King Edmund; "Alright," she said, "Wait here whilst I ready a horse."

"Thank you," Russell said as Ellen hurried over to the stables.

She got the stable hand, Tom, to help her saddle up a grey dappled mare; she had lost Silver the night of the werewolf attack, and the white mare still hadn't made her way back to Cair Paravel. After Ellen had slipped onto the horse, using the mounting block, Russell hopped up and sat nestled between her and the horse's neck. She dug her heels into its flanks and they rode out of the palace, heading west.

* * *

King Edmund watched from the gate as the grey horse cantered over the bridge. He smiled to himself at Ellen's attempts to stay in the middle of the saddle before calling for his own horse to be saddled up. He had overheard her promise to Mahlirra and thought it a pity that she had broken it so soon. Then again, he thought to himself, he had promised something very similar to all three of his siblings. Yet here he was, about to follow an escaped slave to a known werewolf infested area out of pure curiosity.

Before mounting his horse, he paused a moment. Was this the right thing to do? It was dangerous and more than a little risky. He pushed these doubts aside and leapt onto his horse before cantering out of the gates, over the bridge, and away from the safety of Cair Paravel. Soon all he could hear was the thrumming of his stallion's hooves against the ground and the whistling of the wind in his ears.

There was no way he was letting Ellen head off into certain danger without him.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello! Well now there is lots going on. Mahlirra and Peter are... :D. I really like them together now even though they weren't originally planned. But Mahlirra's father - what's going on there? I mean what possible reason could there be for him suddenly rebelling against poor King Lune? ;) All will be revealed in time...**

 **Also I've written a little drabble with Peter and Mahlirra. It's about where they were when they found out about what happened with Lucy and Ellen and the werewolves. It's just a little fluff which I wanted to write but it gives more meat to Mahlirra and Peter's relationship so I'd recommend checking it out. It's called 'Sand and Kisses' which pretty much sums it up ;) and you can find it via my profile page.**

 **I feel sorry for Russell the rabbit. He doesn't know, as we do, what happened to Marcus. Though they'll be fining out soon enough I'm sure. Those pesky werewolves - what are they planning though? It's not like they're unintelligent beasts. They're cunning. I wonder what Ellen and Edmund will discover...**

 **This is so much fun to write! I hope you enjoyed that chapter and I'll update as soon as possible though my updates may be a little slower from now on. I must admit though - for me I've think I've updated quite frequently. Hopefully not too frequently...?**

 **Anyway, have a nice day and thank you for reading and reviewing. :)**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	15. A Royal Hostage

A Royal Hostage

Mahlirra shivered slightly in the cold night air. They had spent the whole of that day riding, and had made good progress. Tomorrow they would reach Anvard and see if they really were too late for poor King Lune. Tonight they were camped near the top of the mountain pass, just on the Archenland side of the border, and were surrounded by tall fir trees. Mahlirra had walked a short distance from the camp to get away from the hustle and bustle to think. Peter came over to her with a blanket and wrapped it round her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said as he sat himself down beside her. She shivered again and pulled the blanket more tightly around herself.

"Here," Peter said, and moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. Mahlirra sighed and allowed herself to lean in to him. He was warm and where his hand rested on her side she could feel it through the blanket, sending pulses of warmth and contentment through her body.

"How are you?" She asked him, lifting her face so she could watch his. His eyes were closed, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "Peter?" She took her hand out of the blanket and raised it to his forehead.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked, smiling a little and opening his eyes to look at her.

"I'm trying to stop you frowning," she replied, "And it's working." He laughed at this which made her smile.

"Mahlirra," he murmured, still smiling and he placed his lips against her forehead, "You are..." He trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

"I know," she whispered, "I feel it to."

And that's how they were sitting, entwined in each other's arms, when the dryad rebels attacked the camp.

The first they heard of it was the cries coming from the camp further down the mountain. As soon as they heard it they were both on their feet, Peter drawing his sword and taking Mahlirra's hand in his. They were hurrying back to the camp when a line of tall fir dryads walked towards them, blocking their path to the camp.

"The High King," the tallest dryad said, smirking, "Would you believe it - you're just the person we were looking for."

* * *

"The attack on our camp was a distraction," Lucy said, turning to the other people standing in the pavilion, "They took Peter: they took our High King!" They had been in the heat of battle when the dryads had suddenly left, disappearing back into the woods. It hadn't taken them too long to notice the disappearance of Peter and Mahlirra. What was worse was that a significant chunk of the Narnian dryads had also disappeared.

Lucy had a horrible feeling that they had joined Salix. The thing was she couldn't understand why. What reason had they for rebelling? They weren't unfairly treated or exploited in anyway. Dryads were respected, their elders on a par with centaurs in their esteem and wisdom; they were as beloved as the naiads and as integrated in customs and traditions as the fauns and satyrs.

It was Salix – he was the heart of it all. That was clear for anyone to see, which was why it was so terrible that Mahlirra had been taken. She was their link to Salix. And she too had been taken, alongside their High King. It was too much.

Lucy sat down, her head in her hands. She looked up as she heard the pavilion flaps opening. In came her sister, Queen Susan, weary from battle, her bow at her side. They exchanged a look before Susan turned to the advisors in the pavilion.

"They disappeared into the forests completely: there is no way to follow them."

"So we've lost King Peter," said Enid the centaur, "Our own King!"

"We'll get him back," Lucy said, determined. She turned to her sister, "We will, and Mahlirra too."

"Of course we will Lucy."

"But first we need to get to King Lune: he needs us, our army." Lucy looked around the pavilion. Mr Tumnus was there alongside the two centaur sisters, Enid and Sorrell. Mr Beaver stood next to Queen Susan whilst Oreius, their centaur general, stood proud near the centre of the pavilion. He flicked his tail and readjusted his hooves.

"I agree with you, your majesty," he said in his deep voice, "But I suggest that once we have secured Anvard we attempt to parley with the dryads, with Salix."

"But Peter," Susan said, "Surely we should do something for him now? We could send out a search party or..." Her voice faltered out. She sighed then nodded her head in reluctant agreement, "You're right. Of course you are. Let's get on the move as soon as possible. How soon can we be ready to move out?"

"About an hour," Oreius answered, "I'll go ready the first company." He bowed his head and left the pavilion. The others in the pavilion also took their leave, leaving Queen Lucy and Queen Susan alone.

"Don't worry Susan," Lucy said, placing a reassuring hand on her sister's wrist, "We'll get Peter back, and Mahlirra too. In fact, she's probably dissuaded her father from this madness already! Perhaps it was a good thing that they were taken."

"Unless Salix turns her as well," Susan said bitterly, "He's charismatic and cunning and good at persuading people: that's clear."

"She loves Peter," Lucy said, "She'd never turn against him or us. And perhaps she'll find out why Salix is doing this as well." Susan smiled at this and then sat down on a chair with a sigh.

"I wish I had your faith Lucy," she said, "You're so certain that it'll work out."

"Well it has to," Lucy replied, taking a seat beside her, "I just hope Edmund isn't putting himself in any unnecessary danger. You know – to make up for not dealing with the werewolves earlier."

"It was he who pushed for us to do something!" Susan exclaimed, "He shouldn't feel any responsibility over that."

"Well he does," Lucy said, "I can tell."

"If anyone should feel responsible it's me."

"How did you work that out?" Lucy asked, incredulous, "We all decided to do nothing. Together."

"But I pushed for it even though deep down I knew he was right." Susan said bitterly, "I wanted to pretend that everything was fine; that nothing bad was happening." She gave a dry laugh, "Well look where we are now!"

"Oh Susan," Lucy said and gave her sister a hug, "You are being silly. That's all in the past and now we're here: facing the problems head on! We're dealing with this rebellion aren't we?"

"I suppose," Susan said, "I just wish we hadn't lost Peter." Lucy took her sister by the hand and looked her directly in the eye.

"We're going to sort this. Me and you, Susan," Lucy smiled, "Together."

An hour later and the two Queens sat at the head of their army, the sun rising gently in the early morning sky. They would reach Anvard before noon, bringing relief to the loyal subjects of King Lune in their besieged capital.

That was if Anvard still stood against the rebel forces.

Lucy glanced to her left. Susan was staring directly ahead, looking as beautiful as she always did, but there was an edge to her gaze; as if she had sharpened herself, resolved herself to something. She turned to see Lucy looking at her and gave her a smile; the hardened look gone, replaced by something gentler.

"Are you alright Luce?" She asked, "We're going to deal with this: first we'll defeat Salix and the dryads. Then we'll get Peter and Mahlirra back. It's all going to be alright."

"I know," Lucy said, her face breaking into a smile, "It's all going to work out. You and I – we're going to sort it."

Susan said nothing, instead turning back to look ahead, the edge returning to her gaze.

* * *

 **A/N: I've finally updated! I did say I wasn't going to be updating as frequently but this was longer than I expected so I'm sorry about that. Anyway I hope your enjoying it. It'd be great to get some feedback... :D**

 **SHS**

 **:D :D :D**


	16. In Search of a Satyr

In Search of a Satyr

Ellen slid off her horse and led the creature over to a patch of long grass, tying its reins to a nearby tree. They had made better progress than she would have thought and had reached Marcus's cave hours before dusk.

She gave her horse a pat before heading over to the rocky outcrop, under which was the satyr's cave. Russell came out of it, a look of frantic worry on his whiskered face.

"He's not there," he said, "I've looked and he's not there! Why isn't he there?"

"Calm down," Ellen said, crouching down beside him, "There are lots of rational explanations why he wouldn't be there. You need to keep calm. Who knows – he could be back any second now."

"Or he could not." Ellen and Russell looked up to see King Edmund trotting over to them astride his big black stallion.

"Did you follow us?" Ellen asked, indignant. Edmund looked a little sheepish which Ellen thought was a strange look for this thoughtful king.

"Yes," he answered finally, "But only because it's dangerous to go out alone and-"

"I'm not alone," Ellen cut across him, "I came with a friend." She gestured to Russell the rabbit who stood awkwardly nearby.

"That may be so," Edmund replied, "But considering what you promised Mahlirra – this doesn't really seem the best place to be."

"Did you listen in to our conversation?!"

"I overheard it yes," Edmund said, "And I agree with Mahlirra: you're being very risky and dangerous coming out here when there are werewolves about."

"You came out here too!"

"Only because you came out."

"Well I had to," Ellen said, "Marcus is missing!"

"You said that there could be a hundred reasons why he's not here," Russell exclaimed, joining in the heated debate, "So he is missing then, he is in danger?"

"I'm sorry Russell," Ellen said, coming over to him, "But it's starting to get dark and surely he'd be home by now?"

"Marcus," Edmund said, thoughtfully, "As in your friend the satyr?"

"Yes."

"Is there anywhere he would have gone? After you'd left for Cair Paravel?"

"I don't think so... I..." Russell trailed off as a look of cold realisation came over his face. He looked up at Ellen and Edmund, "He's gone to Cauldron Pool."

"By the Lion's Mane," Edmund whispered, "Why on earth would he do that?"

"Why?" Ellen asked, feeling confused, "What's so wrong with Cauldron Pool?"

"That's where Russell was when he was first attacked," Edmund answered before leaping off his horse and hurrying over to the rabbit, "But surely you told him about what happened to you?"

"Yes of course I did," Russell answered, "But Marcus always thought I was one for over-reacting and I did leave my cabbage there – he would have wanted to get it back for me. Oh poor Marcus!"

"So the werewolves got him then?" Ellen asked, looking between Edmund and Russell, "But what on earth are they planning? Why are they even here?"

"What I'd give to know the answer to that." Edmund said, leaping back up onto his horse, "Take Russell and head back to Cair Paravel."

"You're not going off to look for him on your own are you?!"

"I'll be fine," Edmund said, "Now go!" Ellen scrambled back up onto her horse.

"I'm coming with you." She said, a look of determination on her face, "Russell, you can wait here. I'm sure you'll be safe here..." She trailed off at the look on his face.

"He's my friend," Russell said, "I should come too."

"This is ridiculous," Edmund said, frustrated, "You both should get back to Cair Paravel"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Ellen said, glaring at him, "You're King Edmund. If anything happens to you then one throne will be empty. I can't let that happen."

"I'll be fine," Edmund said, "You need to take Russell back to safety."

"Why can't you take him?"

"Neither of you need to take me," Russell said, stamping his hind paw in frustration, "I'm going with you!" Without another word, he leapt up in front of Edmund. This left the King speechless.

"Are you sure?" Ellen asked.

"Yes," Russell said coldly, "We'll all go. That way, we're safer. As a group we're more of a threat. And can we please go now? I dread to think what's happened to Marcus and all this arguing is getting us nowhere."

"Of course," Edmund said, giving half a glance to Ellen, "I suggest we go to Cauldron Pool first."

"Sounds like a plan," Ellen said, trying to get more comfortable in her saddle, "Shall we?"

And with that they set off, Edmund with Russell on his black stallion in the lead with Ellen taking the rear. None of them spoke, all acutely aware of the danger they were putting themselves in and yet all determined to see what they were doing through to the end. They headed towards the setting sun, the golden light flitting across their faces as tree branches momentarily blocked it. It was eerily silent, without even the comforting sound of birds or the familiar cracklings of benign woodland creatures making their way through the undergrowth.

Edmund sat upright staring directly ahead, occasionally glancing to his right or left, a frown defining his expression, one hand on the reins, the other hovering near his sword hilt. Russell sat in front of him, perched just behind the neck of Edmund's horse. His ears were upright, alert. Occasionally his right ear would involuntarily twitch or he would readjust his paws.

Ellen clutched her reins in both hands. Her breathing was heavy and the hairs on the back of her neck were raised. She kept shuddering and turning round in her saddle, only to see the empty forest path they had just come along. Everything was silent and still, too still. Her sword felt heavy at her side and she had that unnerving feeling of being watched.

As they rode the shadows of the trees slowly got longer and longer, and the sky got darker and darker. Ellen watched as Edmund's horse slowly dimmed to the silhouette of a horse and rider as the darkness closed in around them.

That was when the howling started. It now had no ominous mystery. It was instead chillingly aggressive as it got louder and louder.

Edmund turned his horse, a beast not easily scared. Ellen just managed to keep hers in control, anticipating it's nervous reaction from experience with Silver. She looked across to him and Russell. In the grey of dusk she could only just make out their expressions.

Russell looked terrified, quaking in the saddle. Edmund was frowning, his sword drawn. Ellen went to draw her sword and had just grabbed the hilt when she felt a large hand grab her right ankle. She screamed; kicking out at whatever it was that had got her.

"ELLEN!" Edmund shouted, leaping off his horse.

The hand grabbing her ankle tightened its grip, pulling her from her saddle. She fell to the ground and before she realised what was happening, she was being lifted up onto the back of some human like creature. Edmund ran over, his sword raised, but suddenly a couple more of these creatures were upon him, overpowering him with ease.

"RUSSELL!" He shouted, as the creatures tackled him to the ground, "GET BACK TO CAIR PARAVEL! TELL THEM THERE'S MORE TO THIS THAN-"

But the creatures knocked him unconscious preventing him from finishing. Ellen looked up, trying to see if she could see Russell, but both the horses had fled and the rabbit was nowhere to be seen. She struggled against her captors until she felt something hard hit her on the head.

The world quickly went from the grey of dusk to lifeless black.

* * *

 **A/N: Well I hope you enjoyed that chapter. I haven't updated in such a ridiculously long time but I can't promise to make up for it. I'm at a stressful time at the moment so probably won't be returning to this till the summer - probably July time. I am very sorry. I've left it at such a cliffhanger as well but that can't be helped.**

 **If you have the time please do review. Check back in July and I'll be back writing again. Hopefully updating as often as I have done.**

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 **:D :D :D**


	17. Secrets

Secrets

Edmund woke up. His head was throbbing and he couldn't feel his right arm. It was dark all around him. He tried to sit up but his head started wheeling and he had to lie back again.

"Ellen?" He wanted to know if she were here, if she too had been captured. There was silence and Edmund thought himself alone before a small voice replied.

"I'm here Edmund," came her voice in the darkness. It sounded different; smaller somehow as if she had been crying, "I thought you were dead! I thought they were going to eat you – those creatures, that is."

He heard shuffling in the darkness and a second later felt a cool hand take his own.

"It's so dark," he said, firming his grip on her cool fingers – they gave him comfort in the darkness – "Do you know where we are."

"A cave sunken in the earth," Ellen said, her voice seeming to gain strength after his own words, "I think they took us further west. I can't be sure: I was drifting in and out of consciousness."

"I wonder why they took us," Edmund said, "If they were werewolves then surely we'd be dead by now."

"Perhaps they took you as a hostage for something?"

"Possibly," Edmund replied. He didn't want to voice his fears – that that was indeed what they had done – because that would mean they had no need for Ellen. And if they had no need for her... He quickly turned his mind to something else.

"Ellen," he said, "How is it that you're one of Lucy's best friends and yet nobody knows the slightest thing about you?"

"What do you mean?" Ellen asked, defensively, moving her hand away from his.

"We know you were a slave." Edmund said, "But we don't know how you came to Narnia. I guess through the Great Desert, but why should I, or any of my siblings, have to guess?"

"I'm a private person," Ellen said slowly, "It's not like I lie or anything. If someone asks me a question I'll answer, and truthfully, but I don't want to say too much. I don't know – I like my secrets." She paused before breaching the subject:

"You never told me you betrayed your siblings, that you joined the White Witch. What Aslan did for you." There was a strained silence which stretched interminably, or so it seemed. Finally Edmund spoke.

"You never asked," he said, "And you found out anyway so why would you need me to tell you."

"Ditto," Ellen said, "You never asked me."

Edmund smiled in the blackness. That was true – neither of them had asked one another about anything. Yet somehow he felt that this was something which was missing. There was something tugging at him deep inside, a nagging urge, something that longed for total honesty, total clarity, between Ellen and himself.

He felt her close to him again. This time it was both her hands which entwined with his own. They stayed like that for a while. Edmund lying on the cold rock whilst Ellen sat beside him, hands entwined. Then something which had started to worry him in the back of his mind became more urgent.

"What was it that Aslan did for me?"

He felt, rather than heard, Ellen's quick gasp and the grip on his hand became tighter.

"Didn't Lucy tell you?"

"No," Edmund replied, "What?"

"Or Susan?"

"Ellen what was it that Aslan did for me?"

"I don't think... How do I... I'm not the one to tell you."

"I need to know," Edmund said firmly, "For all we know we could both be about to die so please – only you can tell me: what did Aslan do for me?"

Edmund could hear her breath, coming heavier and slower. She removed one of her hands from his and moved up his arm till she came to his face. She ran her hand down his cheek, gently and let it rest on the crook of his neck.

For some reason, this touch comforted Edmund, especially as his mind reeled, whirling around as he tried to figure out what Aslan could possibly have done for him. It must be something to do with his early treachery: Ellen mentioned it alongside that.

"Ellen tell me."

"I can't."

"You must!"

"It's not fair."

"On who, you? Me?"

"Please Edmund."

"You didn't promise my sisters not to?"

"No , they don't think we ever talk – which I suppose we haven't."

"Then you can tell me."

"I can't."

"Ellen I'm begging you, please,"

"Fine," she said. There was a hesitation and then she spoke: "To save you from the White Witch – it was something to do with deeper magic I think," She paused, "To save you, Aslan died for you on the Stone Table."

Edmund looked about unseeingly at the blackness. It seemed impossible. And yet it made sense. Why else would the White Witch have given him up so easily? He felt his mind reel and if he had been standing , or sitting even, he would have collapsed. As it was, he didn't. He felt Ellen's cool touch on his neck move to stroke his cheek, the grip of her other hand firmly in his.

He could feel tears on his face – how could the Great Lion have died for him? He was a traitor and Aslan had paid for it. Aslan, the Great Lion himself.

"Edmund," Ellen said softly, her voice quieter than before. It was when she said his name that he realised she was much closer. Her face must be only an or inch or so from his. "Edmund I'm sorry – would you have preferred not to know?"

"No," he found his voice and it sounded off to him, "Thank you Ellen."

There was a short moment of silence.

"But Ellen," Edmund said suddenly, "He came back. How?"

"That's the whole 'deeper magic' part," Ellen said, "I think, from what Lucy said, that if an innocent dies in place of a traitor, death is reversed. So they come back."

"Oh," Edmund said, "I don't think I quite get that."

"Me neither," Ellen said, "But clearly Aslan loves you enough to die for you – even if he did get to cheat death."

"I suppose," he replied. The two of them were quiet for a bit. Edmund was still thinking about Aslan dying for him but after what Ellen had said, although he knew he would always feel guilt for it, his level of guilt over that whole thing was high enough not to be easily increased.

"Edmund," Ellen suddenly said, "I want to be honest with you. I don't know – I feel like we need to be honest with one another. Do you know what I mean?"

"Completely," Edmund said, "It's so odd but I think it's only right. We're probably going to die together anyway."

"Then will you let me tell you about my brother," Ellen asked, "About my family?"

"I want to know," he said, "You don't need to be so coy about it."

"Alright then," she said, "I suppose I should begin with where we lived. This was all when I was very young. I was hardly four when my parents died and only ten when..."

She trailed off at the sound of heavy footsteps, as if several large men - who transformed into wolves at the full moon - were coming into the cave.

The werewolves had returned.

* * *

 **A/N: Well it's been a while. This isn't me properly getting back to writing this, not yet. I started writing other fanfiction stuff when I really should have been focusing on my exams. Then I remembered that this is a priority so I wrote a little and then got caught up in it. I've written this chapter and started the next. I'll update that one soon. That said, I still won't be properly writing till late next week so give it a couple of weeks till regular(ish) updates.**

 **Thank you to the couple of reviews since I put this on hold - especially to the lovely guest who said it deserves way more reviews. (Obviously I agree ;)) Also - I'll think I'll just take out the eye colour. You're right; in the books his eyes are brown but I visualise the characters differently - probably due to the movies.**

 **Anyway I hope you enjoyed that character. It wasn't really that action packed but I wanted Edmund and Ellen to have a talk. I think Ellen is a bit of mystery - to me in particular. How I visualise her looking keeps changing and I think because she isn't an extrovert I keep losing her character. It's different with Mahlirra - I always knew who she was - perhaps because her character is a bit flatter than Ellen's, more simple?**

 **If anyone has an opinion on Ellen or advice - that is something I'd really like to hear. :D**

 **Thank you for reading.**

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	18. The Besieged Castle

The Besieged Castle

From the window she could see the dryads, stationary, in their tree form, just out of arrow's reach of the exterior castle walls. The window was higher than the castle walls, high up in the keep and looking down over the inner courtyard. She could see the castle gate which was being further reinforced with what wood was still available in Anvard.

She looked to the wall by the fireplace, where her pristine willow bow rested next to her quiver of arrows. If it came to it, she would fight.

But Lady Helaina had been charged with looking after and protecting Prince Corin. Earlier that day, Turil had come to her and shown her the way to the secret passageway out of the castle. Confused, she had said that she would be atop the castle wall, with the other archers, but Turil had told her that the King himself had decided on her to look after the prince. If the battle was to go badly she was to get him to Narnia, to Cair Paravel. But she knew, deep down, that she would undoubtedly need to fight to get out of the castle. She wasn't afraid of it, but she was disgusted by the idea of violence and killing.

And how could she leave her mother or her cousin? Her mother who was so sick, and her cousin, Lady Pamela, who was so... so stubborn – how could she leave them?

And then there was Lord Drucan. She felt a flush rising to her cheek as she thought of him. The handsome Narnian lord who was so kind and charming, especially towards her, was to be in the midst of the fighting alongside her cousin.

Helaina sighed and moved away from the window and back to the young prince's cot. He was sitting up, wide awake, holding a toy bear with black button eyes. She picked him up and moved over to the armchair near the fire. She sat down on it and placed him on her knee.

"Sweet Prince," she said gently, "Shall I tell you a story?"

Lady Pamela was sharpening her sword. With each stroke she imagined herself striking down the traitor Salix, and with each stroke she felt more and more disgusted with herself, with what was happening, with the lack of any justification for it. _Zwing_ the blade rang as she scraped the whetstone down it. _Zwing Zwing Zwang_

She looked up from her work as Lord Drucan came into the room (it was an antechamber of the main armoury) but he didn't seem to notice her sitting as she was, concealed behind a row of shields. She was about to speak up when she saw him look furtively around. Curious she made no noise, and moved further into the shadows.

He walked over to the wall opposite to the door and lifted a couple of old helmets off a shelf. Concealed behind it was just the brick wall. Drucan tapped at one of the bricks and then pulled it completely out, revealing a small space behind it. He then took out of his pocket a small leather bag which he put in the space. He then replaced the brick and put the two helmets in their original places.

Quickly he hurried from the room. Pamela hesitated, not too certain he had left before moving, cat-like, out of her hiding place. What on earth had Lord Drucan been hiding in the wall? What secrets did that pretty boy have? She hastily went over to the same spot and began moving the helmets. She was wiggling the same brick when a loud horn sounded, shrill and clear.

It was a dryad horn. They were finally attacking.

Pamela paused for a millisecond before leaving the armoury to join the fight. She could always come back to find out what was in that small leather bag, and why Lord Drucan so badly needed to hide it.

Her primary duty was to Archenland and its King. His castle was under attack. She slid her sword back into its sheath as she strode outside.

King Lune stood atop the battlements with Turil standing at his side. Both of them wore their battle armour and the normally jolly face of King Lune was grimmer, more solemn. Surrounding them were the King's most loyal captains. At least, the ones who had been inside or near to Anvard at the time of the attack.

Dawson the fox stood in the courtyard managing the movement of weapons and waiting for when he would need to manage the damage the huge dryad catapults would create. Anything wooden and burnable had already been drenched in water and there were already buckets surrounding the castle well where the naiads waited, preparing. They were as prepared as they could be.

The King looked out over the hordes of dryads standing against their King. Even now, he could see on the faces of some of those nearest, looks of doubt and uncertainty. What had Salix told them, how had he incited this in the most peaceful of people? Even now no one could know. There were no dryads this side of the castle wall. All of them had left though no one had noticed it till that fatal letter had arrived. How had it come to this?

He turned his head at the sound of light footsteps coming up the steps to the battlements. It was Lady Pamela. She wore her armour and had her father's sword at her side. There was a look of sure determination on her face as she bowed to him. He nodded in acknowledgement. Of course she would fight. No one could stop her from doing what she wanted.

"And your cousin?"

"She is with your son," It was Turil. Of course she was, Lune thought, he had wanted her to look after Corin whilst the fighting was going on, and perhaps after.

"She wouldn't have been scared of fighting," Pamela said, "She's good with a bow."

"I know," said King Lune, "But her good heart along with her fighting skills make her the perfect one to look after the future King of Archenland if this does not end as we would like."

The Lady Pamela stared at him. The idea that they might lose had never entered her head, from her expression that was very clear. For a moment she looked terrified. Then she nodded and a new grimmer determination appeared on her face.

King Lune looked back out over the battlements. There were so many of them. He had never realised that there were this many dryads in all of Archenland. Yet here they were.

The sound of a shrill clear horn filled the air for the second time that day. He felt, almost as one, the intake of breath of every person in Anvard as the dryads began their attack.

* * *

 **A/N: I meant to post this chapter earlier but then I forgot... oops! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it :D :D**


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